


Saturday Detentions

by LesbeanLatte



Category: South Park
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Accidental Relationship, Addiction, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Codependency, Cuddling, Detention, Drama, Drugs, EDIT: more angst than initially planned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frenemies, Gen, High School, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, M/M, Major Slow Burn, Mostly Fluff, Parental Issues, Saturday detention, Slow Burn, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Uneasy Allies, Unhealthy Relationships, all the parents are pretty bad, angsty, but still some fluff, canon typical language, cartman x therapy, everything is the same except now they're in high school, liane cartman is a bad parent, like really slow burn, well cartman isn't really the same
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesbeanLatte/pseuds/LesbeanLatte
Summary: This was IT. Kyle couldn’t take any more. He’d put up with this fat ass giving him shit for years. He’d moved past it when Cartman called his mom a big fat bitch countless times, including once in song form in front of the entire school.Speaking of public humiliation, what about the time Cartman embarrassed Kyle in front of the whole world because Kyle was trying to keep peace in the middle east only for things to go to hell anyway? Or, worse, when Cartman spread a rumor that he was dating Kyle back in fourth grade that had somehow stuck all these years? Hell, Kyle had even continued to hang out with Cartman after he tried to start a second fucking holocaust.Well, this time, Kyle was really done.Now the stupid fat piece of shit had really gone too far. Was copying a test necessarily worse than trying to have all gingers exterminated, or convincing people that a Jewpacabra was going to kill everyone on Easter? Okay, maybe not, but it was the final straw on a very tired camel’s back.





	1. In the closet

This was IT. Kyle couldn’t take any more. He’d put up with this fat ass giving him shit for years. He’d moved past it when Cartman called his mom a big fat bitch countless times, including once in song form in front of the entire school. 

Speaking of public humiliation, what about the time Cartman embarrassed Kyle in front of the whole world because Kyle was trying to keep peace in the middle east only for things to go to hell anyway? Or, worse, when Cartman spread a rumor that he was dating Kyle back in fourth grade that had somehow stuck all these years? Hell, Kyle had even continued to hang out with Cartman after he tried to start a second fucking holocaust. 

Well, this time, Kyle was really done. 

Now the stupid fat piece of shit had really gone too far. Was copying a test necessarily worse than trying to have all gingers exterminated, or convincing people that a Jewpacabra was going to kill everyone on Easter? Okay, maybe not, but it was the final straw on a very tired camel’s back. 

“Kyle.” Kyle blinked and looked up at Stan’s annoyed face. “Dude you just died for like the fifth time, what’s going on with you?” He realized that his character on World of Warcraft had indeed just had his ass handed to him for the fifth time in a row, and was respawning in a graveyard. 

Kyle sighed and closed his laptop. Stan frowned and closed his too. They were sitting in Kyle’s kitchen, each with open cans of Diet Double Mountain Dew and piles of chips next to them. They were sitting in the same chairs, drinking the same sodas, eating the same snacks, playing the same game, and talking about the same stupid fat ass that had been a pain in their asses back in fourth grade. Nothing ever seemed to change for good in this quiet little redneck town. 

“I just can’t believe Garrison is punishing me and Cartman both for this stupid test,” Kyle said, grinding his teeth. “It’s not fair. It’s not like I would have let that fat ass cheat. He went back in the classroom after class, threw away his old test, and copied my answers word for word on a blank one and Garrison knows it. Ugh!” he yelled, slamming his fist on the table. There were only so many people with teaching degrees in South Park, so of course, there was no escaping Garrison’s bullshit. Kyle had been dealing with it since fourth grade, minus the brief stint when Garrison became president. Although, of course, he’d kind of been dealing with his bullshit then too just in a different way. 

Stan was clearly trying to be sympathetic, but he kept stealing glances at their closed laptops, his mind still undoubtedly on the unfinished game. “I know, but it’s not like you’re really being punished for it, Kyle. Garrison didn’t even call your mom. All you have to do is some stupid volunteer work for the school. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“Not that big of a deal, Stan?” Kyle growled. “Are you serious? This is our junior year! This is gonna reflect badly on me when I start applying to law school! Plus, it’s every Saturday for a month. And I’m gonna have to do it with Cartman! Do you have any idea how impossible that’s gonna be?” 

“I don’t know dude,” Stan sighed. “Maybe Cartman will just want to get it over with and he won’t be that bad.” 

“Have you met Cartman?” Kyle yelled.

The next day was Saturday, and it was the first day of Kyle and Cartman’s stupid volunteer bullshit. Kyle had to drag himself out of bed. He tugged his green ushanka over his wild curls and brushed his teeth without fully opening his eyes. 

He slipped downstairs and was about to trudge out the front door when someone called to him from the living room and he had to repress a groan. He’d been hoping no one would be awake this early to question him. 

“Kyle bubbe, what are you doing awake at this time? And where are you going?” 

“I’m uh, going to hang out with my friends, mom,” Kyle said. He didn’t turn around so she wouldn’t see the grey bags under his eyes.

“Well bubbe, why don’t you take the car,” said his mom. Goddammit. Why did she have to be so nice to him? He was supposed to be taking the bus, which would be waiting for him. But if he turned down a free opportunity to drive, surely his mom would question him. 

“Sure,” he said, trying to sound excited. He hurried into the kitchen and took the keys. “Thanks, mom!” He kissed her on the cheek and hurried out the door. 

He sat down in the car and took a deep breath. It wasn’t going to be easy keeping up this façade all month. What junior in high school voluntarily got up at 7 am on Saturdays every day for a month? There was no way he could keep his mom believing that for long. 

Of course, he could tell her the truth about what had happened and how he was being punished unfairly by the school. But that choice had approximately two outcomes and neither of them was great. One, she might believe him and go to the school furious, and her angry mom decisions had led to at least one world war. Or, two, she wouldn’t believe him and would punish him herself in addition to the mandatory Saturday “volunteer” work. Kyle didn’t like either of those options. So, he silenced his phone, turned on NPR, and drove to school. 

When he got to the school, he checked his phone and saw forty missed calls and ten texts from Cartman. 

“Jesus Christ,” Kyle muttered, opening the texts from the contact ‘fat fuck,’ with a picture of Cartman next to the contact name. 

i’m @ th bus stop

u missed the bus. 

garrison is gonna kill u lol 

k i’m at school wya

c’mon jew boy 

this isn’t funny 

dude i can tell garrison ur running late but ur still gonna b in trouble u better get here 

kyle 

KYLE

wtf u stupid jew 

Kyle typed back “I’m here now, and on my way in. I drove.” He looked at the time. 7:15 am. They didn’t even have to be in the cafeteria to get their first assignment until 7:30. What the fuck was Cartman freaking out about? Kyle frowned, but shook it off, sticking his phone in his pocket and stepping outside, making sure to lock his mom’s car. 

He shivered. It was only mid-September, but the Colorado air was chilly and he regretted only wearing a light jacket instead of a more winter friendly coat and mittens. He hurried inside and made his way to the cafeteria where Cartman was waiting, playing on his phone. Kyle looked around. Garrison wasn’t even there yet, so what had Cartman been so worried about? 

“Hey fat ass,” he said, sitting in the chair next to Cartman. “Thanks a lot for ruining my Saturday. And all my Saturdays for a month.” 

“Thanks a lot for being so annoying you make it impossible to feel bad about at all.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes bitterly and opened his phone to scroll Facebook. Cartman had, admittedly, gotten a lot tamer since their middle school days. He had gone to therapy, Kyle knew, and sometimes now he could be almost bearable. Still, then he would pull shit like this. Copying a test? Cartman wasn’t even bad at history. He just did it to be a dick and get under Kyle’s skin. 

“Oh god,” Kyle groaned, putting his phone face down on the table. He’d come across a picture of Liane Cartman, wearing nothing but lingerie and eating a banana in a very unsexy way that was clearly meant to be sexy. It wasn’t a classy picture either, it was something you could only come across on the Facebook page for a crack whore in a tiny white bread mountain town. 

“What?” Cartman asked, immediately interested. He reached for Kyle’s phone, and Kyle snatched it away. “What were you looking at, jew?” Cartman yelled, reaching for the phone again. 

Cartman was a fat ass, but he was also pretty strong. He shoved Kyle to the ground, and Kyle rolled away, still holding his phone tight. Cartman grabbed the phone and twisted it out of Kyle’s hand. Before Kyle could stop him, Cartman was entering the passcode. 

“Oh sick!” he yelled. “Kyle why are you looking at pictures of my mom like that?” he handed the phone back to Kyle. 

“I wasn’t, dumbass,” Kyle said. “It was just on Facebook.” 

“Yeah right,” Cartman said. “I know you were stalking my mom like the sneaky little Jewish creep that-”

“Eric!” Garrison’s voice yelled. They both looked up to see Garrison standing over their table, hands on his hips. “That is not appropriate!” 

“But Mr. Garrison, Kyle was looking at pictures of my mom-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Garrison snapped. “Now look, what you boys did was unacceptable. So, I’m having you clean all the boys’ bathrooms on the first floor and if I come back at noon and they aren’t spotless, I’m giving you another month of Saturday volunteer work!” 

With that, Garrison stormed off. 

“Is he kidding?” Kyle asked, stunned. Were they doing janitor work? Wasn’t this illegal? Making kids clean bathrooms? Wasn’t there some kind of child labor law against this or something? Maybe they could stage a rebellion or - 

“Right?” Cartman said, interrupting Kyle’s thoughts. “This is wrong. Wroong. We should like, try and stage a rebellion. Instead of cleaning, we should like, shit in all the urinals. Or something. We shouldn’t have to do this, it isn’t right.” 

“No way, fat ass I’m not getting in more trouble,” Kyle said. “Did you hear Garrison? If we don’t do it he’s giving us another month of work.” 

“Yeah,” said Cartman. “Right.” 

“Look,” Kyle said. “Let’s not make this harder than it has to be. We don’t want our parents finding out about this. So, let’s just do the work and get it over with. Can we please just do that?” 

“I don’t know Kyle,” Cartman said, a look in his eyes that filled Kyle with a fiery rage. “Maybe instead, I should paint the bathroom walls with permanent markers and take a shit in all the urinals.” 

“You really like the idea of shitting in a urinal, huh?” Kyle asked, rolling his eyes. 

“I mean, that time Stan did it back in fourth grade and Mackey freaked the fuck out was pretty funny.” 

Despite not finding it funny at the time, Kyle had a hard time looking back at the memory of Mackey’s breakdown over the school intercom without laughing. “Okay yeah, I’ll give you that,” he said. 

It was a rare moment, he and Cartman looking at each other sideways, grinning, and laughing about the past with no ulterior motives from either of them. Except, lately it was becoming less rare. Maybe that was why Kyle had been so hurt – no, not hurt, he was pissed, he reminded himself – about this whole test copying thing. 

As of last year, Stan and Wendy were in an on phase of their on again off again relationship and the two of them were almost always together. Kenny was dating a different girl every week plus working as a fry cook at Raisins which kept him pretty busy. So, more often than not, Kyle and Cartman would find themselves the only two left in a booth at Denny's after everyone else went home, or sitting in Kyle’s living room playing Xbox. So, when Cartman had decided to fuck Kyle over like this, Kyle had been understandably pissed. After all, he had started to consider Cartman his, well maybe not friend, but at least not his enemy, at least not to the same extent as back in middle school. They were more like frenemies. Could you betray a frenemy? 

“Well, let’s get started,” Cartman said.

“Right,” Kyle agreed, pulling himself out of his thoughts. 

They went together to the janitor closet when they were hit with a surprising realization. Neither of them had any idea what supplies they might need or how to even start cleaning a bathroom. 

Kyle had the bright idea of looking it up on his phone. He came across a somewhat passive aggressive but still useful Reddit master post giving advice on basic parts of living like cooking and cleaning. He texted the link to Cartman, and they sat in silence on the floor of the closet for a few minutes, both separately reading over the part about cleaning bathrooms. 

“Okay,” Kyle said, “I can take the floors if you scrub the toilets and -” 

“Ay!” Cartman yelled. “Why do I get stuck with cleaning the toilets?” 

“Well, why should I get stuck with it?” 

“Because you’re a stupid Jew!” 

“That’s not a good reason Cartman, maybe I think you should have to do it because you’re a fat fuck!” 

“Well, maybe you should have to because if you never have to scrub a toilet you’ll always be the same spoiled little Jewish brat and everyone will always hate you because you get everything you want and never have to work for it!” 

Kyle was used to stinging insults from Cartman, though admittedly not as many since Cartman started therapy in ninth grade, still – that didn’t sound like something Cartman had just come up with in the moment. It sounded like something he had been holding back for a while, so it hit a little hard. Kyle pretended not to be taken off guard. “Being Jewish has nothing to do with being spoiled Cartman,” he retorted, “and anyway your whore mom gets you whatever you want so you’re not really one to talk!” 

“Ay! Don’t talk about my mom like that!” 

Then Cartman did something he had never actually done before despite their many fights over the years. He punched Kyle in the face. Hard. Kyle fell backward to the floor of the janitor’s closet. 

Kyle clutched his nose. He could taste blood and mucus pooling in his throat, and the burning pain in his nose was making his eyes tear up. The tears had nothing to do with the argument, or what Cartman had said about Kyle being rich and spoiled because Kyle would never let a comment from that fat ass to get to him that much, no way, definitely not. 

“Oh my god,” Cartman was saying. He looked shocked at what he had done. “Oh my god Kyle, I didn’t mean to do that.” 

Kyle stood up, still holding his nose. His sleeve was getting stained with blood. He was staring at Cartman with something between shock and hurt that he was really hoping came off as anger. Without a word, he hurried off to the boy’s bathroom. 

When he was inside, he grabbed a paper towel and held it over his nose while tilting his head back. A minute later, the door opened and closed, and Cartman was standing beside Kyle. 

“You should lean your head forward,” he said. “It’s better to let the blood flow out.” 

“What the fuck, Cartman?” Kyle muttered. He leaned forward though, letting the blood flow out. “You hit me in the face and now you’re trying to help me treat the bloody nose?” 

“I’m s…” Cartman trailed off. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. 

“Jesus,” Kyle said. “You can’t even say you’re sorry, huh?” 

They were silent for a few minutes. Finally, Kyle’s nose stopped bleeding. He put a wet paper towel on his face to get rid of the blood. His nose didn’t look broken. God, Cartman was lucky he threw such a shitty punch or Kyle would’ve totally gone straight to Garrison. 

“Okay,” Kyle said. “I’ll clean the toilets. Let’s get the supplies ready.” 

They went off to the janitor’s closet again and got buckets, mops, disinfectant spray, and toilet scrubbers. 

They argued for about fifteen minutes about what music to play. Kyle wanted Florence in the Machine, but Cartman was insistent on Abba. After calling each other every name in the book and Cartman calling Kyle’s mom a fat bitch with tits that belonged in a morgue, they decided to compromise and take turns picking songs. Kyle couldn’t help but think that even if Cartman was still annoying as shit, they would have never resolved anything that quick just three or four years ago. 

The rest of the time wasn’t that bad. The two went back and forth, snapping at each other and arguing over everything from which cleaning spray to use to whether each stall was adequately clean. Kyle thought to himself that their bickering was kind of like the opposite of lovable banter. 

At noon, they had just finished scrubbing the last bathroom. 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Cartman said.

“Okay,” Kyle said, “I’m gonna go to the cafeteria and wait for Garrison. 

He headed back to the cafeteria and sat at a table. He sighed. Things could have gone a lot worse. His sleeve was definitely stained with blood, but maybe if he hurried to his room and put on a new jacket his parents wouldn’t notice. 

“KYLE BROFLOVSKI!” Garrison yelled, making Kyle jump. He turned to see Garrison standing with his hands on his hips, glaring. 

“What?” Kyle asked. 

“HOW DARE YOU DESTROY SCHOOL PROPERTY!” 

“What?” Kyle asked. “I didn’t!” 

Garrison grabbed his wrist, and Kyle followed him to the bathroom, totally confused. 

He froze when they got into the bathroom. Cartman was waiting, hands behind his back. Kyle’s jaw dropped as Garrison shoved him into one of the stalls. 

Written on the wall was the slogan “call this number for a good time” followed by a number Kyle recognized from having called it plenty of times when Cartman had gotten himself too deep into some scheme or had gone missing for a few days or had done something to put himself or someone else in danger. It was Liane Cartman’s number. 

Kyle came out of the stall, staring at Cartman in shock. Why would Cartman write something like that? Just to get Kyle in trouble? That seemed pretty fucked up, but then again, was there anything he couldn’t put past Cartman? Lately, he’d thought there was starting to be a line which Cartman wouldn’t cross, but the stupid fat ass was proving again and again that this wasn’t the case. Kyle was fuming. 

“Mr. Garrison, I didn’t write that!” Kyle protested. But as always, Garrison was immune to reason. 

“I don’t wanna hear it, Kyle!” Garrison yelled. “You boys both get an extra week of detention for this!” 

“But-” Kyle was surprised to hear Cartman protesting. Of course, Cartman probably hadn’t counted on getting in trouble himself for this. He’d probably just done it to get Kyle in trouble. 

“Another word and I’ll make it an extra month!” 

Both boys shut their mouths at this. Garrison led them out of the building and got in his car to speed away. 

Kyle turned on Cartman, fuming. “What the hell?” he said. “Why-”

“Kyle wait,” Cartman said. I didn’t write it for the reason you think.” 

Kyle felt his face filling with heat and his fists clenching. “Start talking,” he said. 

“My mom asked me to write that on bathroom stalls,” Cartman said. 

Kyle huffed in a breath. He was staring at Cartman in shock. This wasn’t the answer he had been expecting. “What?” he asked. 

Cartman wouldn’t meet Kyle’s eyes. “Look, I’ve been doing it in like, restaurants and stuff but I guess it’s not enough because she’s still always nagging me about it. I think her new pimp is really on her to get more business or something. I shouldn’t have written that in the school when we were supposed to be cleaning.” 

“I…” Kyle had no idea what to say. 

He knew Liane was a prostitute. He knew she had some issues, which was where a lot of Cartman’s issues probably came from, but it wasn’t really something they talked about. Ever since the four of them had become friends in pre-school it had been an unspoken agreement between him, Stan and Kenny not to bring it up. Of course, Kyle had called Cartman’s mom every name in the book plenty of times when they were fighting, but they’d never really talked about it so directly. 

“Right,” he said. “That’s okay Cartman, it’s just an extra week.” He got in his mom’s car and drove off without another word, leaving Cartman standing in the parking lot alone. 

Kyle watching Cartman in his rearview mirror until he had to turn a corner to get home.   
It wasn’t until later, as he lay in bed trying to sleep, that Kyle wondered to himself how Cartman knew so much about taking care of bloody noses.


	2. The Quiz

Kenny took a long drag from his joint and lay back on his bed. Cartman flopped onto the bed next to him. Kenny passed him the joint. They were laying in Kenny’s bed side by side and the room smelled of alcohol, weed, and cigarettes. Pages from Playboy which Kenny had ripped out littered the bullet hole strewn walls and dirty clothes covered the floor. A poster for Deadpool 2 hung across the room on the closed door. 

“Dude,” Kenny said, his voice muffled because he had the drawstrings on his bright orange hoodie pulled tight, “why don’t you just tell him you’re sorry you copied and explain the reason-” 

“No way dude,” Cartman interrupted. “I am not doing that.” 

Kenny sighed. He got it to some extent. As a poor kid with drug dealing parents it wasn’t like his favorite thing in the world was explaining to people that he hadn’t gotten his studying done because he was too busy delivering a package for his parents or working and then giving the money to his parents, or watching out for his siblings because of the shady creeps his parents had at the house. So yeah, he could imagine why Cartman didn’t want to tell Kyle that he was failing half his classes because it was a little hard to study when you could hear your mom getting either beaten up or plowed a room over. 

“I don’t get it dude,” Kenny said. “You used to do pretty well in school even with your mom and everything.” 

“It’s this new pimp,” Cartman said. He took a second drag from the joint. 

“Hey!” Kenny said, snatching the joint back. “Quit hogging the weed.” He paused to breath in the smoke and blow it back out into the air above him. “So, this guy is always around, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Cartman said. “It sucks. He’s a real asshole too.” Kenny noticed Cartman clenching his fists at his side There was an awkward pause. 

“So,” Kenny said, changing the subject abruptly. “Are you ready for the math quiz tomorrow morning?” 

“WHAT?” Cartman interrupted. 

“Yeah dude, Garrison’s only been going on about it for what, the past week?” Kenny chuckled a little. What had been going on in the fat ass’ head that he missed an entire week of class despite being physically present? 

“Shit,” Cartman said. “God fucking dammit dude I totally spaced it. Are you ready?” 

“I’m lucky enough to have a pretty cool tutor,” Kenny said. 

“What that dude studying physics at Denver U?” Cartman asked, and Kenny enjoyed the impressed note in Cartman’s voice. 

Kenny was the expert at making fake IDs, but it didn’t do them much good in South Park because everyone knew their faces. Kenny’s favorite thing was driving up to Denver to meet people in bars and bragging about it later. Of course, if he met a guy he could only brag to one person about it and that was Cartman. Kenny didn’t think Stan or Kyle, or anyone in school really, would judge him for being bi, but there was something much easier about telling someone who he already knew was gay. Besides, Cartman had come out to Kenny and no one else, so it seemed only fair that Kenny return the favor. 

“Yep,” Kenny replied, opening his hoodie enough to shoot Cartman a smug grin. “He’s pretty great” 

“I’m gonna have to-”

“Dude, no more cheating,” Kenny said. “You don’t need to get yourself or anyone else in more trouble.” Cartman looked like he was about to argue so Kenny added, “I’m serious.” 

Cartman sighed. “So, what am I supposed to do?” 

“It’s early,” Kenny said. “You have all day to study.” He got up, dusting himself off and sprayed some axe all over his body. Cartman coughed. 

“Dude, lame,” Cartman said. “That stuff smells like ass.” 

“Better than going to work smelling like a skunk,” Kenny said, laughing. 

“Shit, you have work?” Cartman groaned, falling backwards onto the bed. “Kenny I’m seriously going to fail if you don’t help me study.” 

“Get someone else to help you, fat ass,” Kenny said. “I can’t be late for my shift.” 

“Yeah or late to flirt with every waitress before your shift starts,” Cartman muttered. 

Kenny threw a pillow at Cartman, and left the room. He was a little regretful to be leaving almost half a joint with Cartman who would definitely smoke the rest of it, but he also felt kinda bad for the guy and didn’t want to kick him out. 

About ten minutes after Kenny left, Cartman threw the roach on the floor and stamped on it before hopping out of Kenny’s window and hurrying through a back alley that led back to the main road. 

Cartman had no idea how he was supposed to pass this math test. He hadn’t studied at all. He’d given his mom the money Stan had lent him for a tutor, and he hadn’t been paying attention in class at all. The truth was, he hadn’t been sleeping. 

His mom had been busy lately which meant the house was always filled with strange guys and always super loud. He had tried everything from holding a pillow over his ears to chugging a glass of his mom’s vodka. The vodka idea had been a bad one. The next day he’d been sick and stuck at home, making him miss even more classes and fall even more behind. 

He couldn’t go to Stan because Stan had already given him cash to pay a tutor at the library. Cartman had genuinely planned on using the money to pay the tutor like he promised Stan, but when his mom begged for money Cartman had a hard time refusing. He sighed, sitting down on a bench near Tom’s Rhinoplasty. He pulled out his phone and looked up ‘jew’ in his phone. Next to the contact name was a picture of an annoyed Kyle holding up his hands in protest of being photographed. 

Cartman couldn’t help but pause to smile at the photo. He loved photography. He liked capturing the lines and shadows and getting the perfect lighting. And the guy in the photo’s cute face didn’t hurt either. He pushed that last thought away. No. Sick. Gross. He hated Kyle. Kyle was not cute. That was his stupid hormonal brain getting confused about feelings of attraction and hatred. He’d talked to his therapist about that a lot. He hit the call button and not a minute later, Kyle answered, sounding as bitter and uptight as always. 

“What do you want fat ass?” 

“Listen Kyle, I need a favor.” 

“A favor?” Kyle sputtered. “I thought I was already doing you the favor of not kicking your ass for getting me Saturday detentions for the next month, you asshole.” 

“Look. I need help studying for tomorrow’s math test,” Cartman said, ignoring him. He could just see Kyle’s infuriated face in his mind’s eye. 

“Are you kidding me? No. No way.” 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Cartman said. 

“How?” 

“I’ll do all the cleaning for our next detention. You don’t have to do anything, you can just sit and watch me clean and I’ll tell Garrison we both did it. Kyle, I’m seriously.” 

“How do I know you won’t just ignore the deal once I help you out?” 

“You can record a video of me saying it. Have me say it in front of Stan and Kenny. Or, I’ll sign a contract. I don’t care, just help me.”

“Wow, you’re really desperate, huh?” Kyle asked.

Cartman groaned. He could just hear the sneakiness in that Jew’s voice. “Fine, yes. I’m desperate. I have an F in math right now and I really need to bring it up.” 

“Okay,” Kyle said. “How about if I help you with your math homework, you have to clean all the bathrooms during our next detention, AND you have to clean my mom’s entire house.” 

“WHAT?” Cartman said. He drew a few stares from people on the streets passing by, but he didn’t care. “I’m not cleaning your stupid bitch mom’s house Kyle!” 

“Then I’m not helping you study,” Kyle said. “And I have an A in math and I already prepared everything I need to know for tomorrow’s quiz.” 

“You’re evil,” Cartman said. “Fine. I’ll be over in an hour.” 

“I can come pick you up,” Kyle said, his voice smug. “My mom’s letting me borrow the car anyway.” 

“I’m on main street,” Cartman said, and hung up the phone. 

He hated Kyle. He hated him with a burning rage. That stupid asshole thought he was so great just because he had an A in math and parents that never asked him for money or kicked him out for days at a time. 

A few minutes later, Kyle pulled up in his mom’s car. He rolled down the passenger window. “Get in,” he said. 

Cartman hopped in and slammed the door behind him. Hozier was playing and Cartman didn’t hesitate to grab Kyle’s phone – an iPhone, obviously – and open Spotify. Of course the rich asshole had Spotify premium. He typed in the band name ‘All-4-One,’ and hit shuffle so they could listen to some decent music. 

“Dick,” Kyle muttered. 

They got out at Kyle’s house and headed to Kyle’s room together. Cartman hesitated in the doorway. He’d known Kyle since he was in pre-school, so obviously he’d been in this room a million times before, but he’d noticed that this time Kyle’s parents didn’t seem to be home. At least, they hadn’t been bombarded with cries of “hi bubbe,” or “there’s my little prince” when they went inside. 

“Coming?” Kyle asked, sitting on his bed and opening his math textbook. 

“Right,” Cartman said. There was nowhere else to sit except next to Kyle on the bed. 

“Where are your parents?” 

“Oh, they’re out of town this week,” Kyle said. “On a trip to Canada with Ike.” 

“Oh,” Cartman said. “So, your mom is sure her little bubbe can make it a whole week by himself?” He pinched Kyle’s cheek. 

Kyle yanked away, glaring. “Watch it fat ass, I’m doing you a favor,” he said. 

He opened the math book to the chapter they were apparently on. Cartman realized he had no idea what they were supposed to be doing. During class, he was either asleep or half asleep, and at home no matter how hard he tried to follow the syllabus he rarely got in more than a total of ten minutes of work. 

Kyle’s room was pretty much the exact opposite of Kenny’s. Where Kenny had posters of half-naked women, Kyle had posters of Albert Einstein. Where Kenny’s walls had bullet holes, Kyle’s had perfect paint. Kyle’s room was neat and organized. Even his bed was made. And instead of weed and axe body spray, it smelled like candles. 

He tried to pay attention to Kyle’s words about finding the volumes of different shapes, but his eyelids were drooping. Apparently, math put him to sleep in any context. He found himself leaning over Kyle’s shoulder, and Kyle probably wouldn’t notice if he rested his head just a little – 

“Hey!” Kyle yelled, jolting Cartman awake. “Are you even paying attention or are you just falling asleep? Ugh, I knew it. No wonder you’re failing the class, you don’t even try.” 

“I am trying,” Cartman said. “Swear.” 

“Well, try to stay awake asshole,” Kyle muttered. “Now, to find the volume of a sphere, you have to go back to that formula sheet we talked about.” 

They studied the rest of the afternoon and by the end of it, Cartman was exhausted but feeling like he understood enough to at least get a C on the test. 

At about six o’clock, Kyle stretched and stood up. “I think you’ve got it. Just remember what we talked about and you should pass your test. You’re welcome.” 

“Thank you,” Cartman said. “I mean it.”

“Well,” Kyle said awkwardly, “I guess I should go make some dinner. Your mom is probably waiting for you.” 

Cartman knew that was his cue to go. But he hated thinking about going back to his house which would either be empty or occupied by his mom and some creep. 

“You were my ride, remember?” 

“Your house is two blocks from here fat ass, you can walk,” Kyle said. 

“Right,” Cartman said. He shuffled towards the exit. 

He was really hoping Kyle would invite him to stay. But that didn’t happen.


	3. r-rebecca it's not what u think

The second Saturday of their detentions, Kyle sat back and played games on his phone while Cartman, true to his word after getting an A on Monday’s math test, cleaned. The stupid lazy Jew asshole didn’t even pretend to want to help. Still, the A on the math test had brought Cartman’s overall grade up to a C which meant he was no longer in danger of failing. So apparently, he owed Kyle. 

At noon, Garrison stopped by and gave them a reluctant compliment on how nice of a job they did. 

As Kyle got into his mom’s car, Cartman thought of something. His mom had been passed out on the sofa when he left earlier, which meant she was probably awake by now and either not home or having creepy guys over. The house would either be empty or crowded and Cartman didn’t know which idea made him feel sicker. 

“Hey, Kyle,” he said. “Can I get a ride? Since I’m coming over anyway.” 

“What?” Kyle asked. 

“Remember, I said I’d clean your fat bitch mom’s house if you helped me get ready for the math test.” 

“Oh, right.” Kyle looked suspicious. “I just honestly didn’t expect you to follow through. But yeah, get in. And don’t call my mom a bitch.” 

“Whatever,” Cartman said, jumping in the passenger seat. He shuffled through Kyle’s music and ended up finding an eighties pop playlist. He grinned and hit play. The first song was Africa by Toto. “Wow, Kyle, I didn’t know you had such iconic taste in music.” 

“I don’t know,” Kyle said, his cheeks flushing. He tugged at his green Jew hat. “I made that when I was bored. It was after we all slept over at your house that one night over the summer and I admitted your music wasn’t half bad.”

“Look at me, being a good influence,” Cartman said, grinning. 

Kyle pulled into the driveway and parked and they both got out. When they got inside, Kyle headed straight for the kitchen and Cartman followed, watching Kyle browse the fridge. 

“Your parents left behind beer!” Cartman said, eyes wide. 

Cartman was used to open access to alcohol because his mom didn’t really keep track of hers, but he wasn’t much of a drinker – the few times he’d gotten drunk he’d ended up either sick or embarrassing himself. Still, it was surprising that uptight Sheila Broflovski would leave a six-pack of beer behind with her seventeen-year-old son. 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “They probably just forgot. Want a Mt. Dew?” 

“Kyle,” Cartman said, putting a hand on Kyle’s shoulder and making dead serious eye contact. “You’ve known me since pre-school. Has the answer to that question ever, once, been no?” 

Kyle rolled his eyes, passing Cartman the soda. “Just say yes and go fat ass.” 

Cartman didn’t really know where to start with the Broflovski’s super clean house, but he swept, vacuumed, and mopped while Kyle played Xbox.   
After he was done, he sighed, sitting down beside Kyle on the couch and opening his phone. 

There was a text from Kenny. “Saw u and Kyle cruisn’ together ;)” 

Cartman shook his head, trying not to smile at Kenny’s annoyingness. The winky face was so unnecessary. He decided to respond the best way he could think of. “r-rebbeca it’s not what u think!” 

“I won’t hesitate BITCH,” Kenny texted back. Cartman laughed. 

“Who are you texting,” Kyle asked, without looking away from the screen. He was playing GTA. 

“Oh just Kenny,” Cartman said, turning his attention to the TV. 

Cartman watched Kyle play for about an hour before Kyle turned off the game and headed back to the kitchen. 

“So,” Cartman said, following him. “What do you wanna do now?” 

“I don’t know,” Kyle looked up at the time. It was only six thirty. “Kenny’s working and Stan’s on a date with Wendy.” 

“We can have fun without those two,” Cartman insisted. 

Kyle hesitated. He looked like he wanted to ask something, and Cartman had a weird feeling that he didn’t want Kyle to ask whatever it was. He didn’t. Instead, he tugged at his green hat and gave Cartman a rare, sincere smile. “Sure, Cartman,” he said. 

And Cartman smiled back, even though there was a real ‘oh shit’ moment going on in the back of his mind because hey, since when did Kyle smiling at him make his insides go soft?


	4. diet double dew

Kyle couldn’t exactly figure out what was going on with Cartman or why he was being so nice. It was…unsettling. Was he up to something? 

Of course, in the past that would’ve been the obvious conclusion. But Kyle couldn’t deny that Cartman had changed since he started going to therapy. He was different. Sure, he was still kind of an asshole, and he came up with the occasional scheme, like when he’d tried to convince the guys to steal instruments from the school band to pawn for video games, or when he’d wanted to kidnap North Park’s mascot before a big game. Still, even Kyle had to admit those ideas were just high school shenanigans and weren’t on the same level as say, sabotaging peace in the middle east just to annoy Kyle. 

Then there were the odd moments when Cartman’s insane plots were almost sweet in a bizarre way. Like when he’d plotted to kill Mr. Mackey because Mackey had hinted that he wanted to send Kenny and his siblings to a foster home again. Or, when he’d snuck into Butters’ house every night a month to teach Butters how to trick his parents into feeling sorry for him and not grounding him – as often. 

Kyle and Cartman played Xbox and drank Mt. Dews for a few hours and eventually after a pretty long game, Kyle looked at his phone and saw that it was getting close to 10pm. He was still pretty wired from all the Mt. Dew though. 

“Oh wow, it’s getting late,” he said. 

“Oh…” Cartman said. He looked almost…disappointed. Kyle felt an odd pang of something like sympathy. He thought about what Cartman had mentioned before about his mom having a new pimp. 

“Hey, you know, why don’t you call your mom and ask her if you can stay the night? I mean, if you want.” 

“Aw,” Cartman immediately went from looking at all sad or vulnerable to mocking. He pinched Kyle’s cheek and Kyle cringed away. “You don’t like staying the night alone ‘cause your parents are gone, aww Kyle, that’s adorable!” 

“Whatever then,” Kyle said. “Go home, I don’t care. I was just being nice.” 

“Hey man, I’m just messing with you,” Cartman said, getting up. “Calm down. What should we do?” 

“Well, my parents did leave those beers in the fridge. Wanna sit out back and drink them?” 

“Ok Stan,” Cartman said. 

“Hey, don’t be a dick.” Kyle glared. He didn’t like anyone commenting on Stan’s drinking, even if he did bring it up every now and then himself. Only he was allowed to bring it up, and only to Stan’s face. 

“Jeez I was just kidding,” Cartman said. “Yeah, if you don’t think your parents will notice, let’s go for it.” 

A few minutes later they were sitting on the back porch, the two of them each nursing a bitter tasting IPA and pretending not to be grossed out by the strong taste. 

“So how are things going with…you know, your mom’s new pimp?” Kyle wasn’t sure what made him ask the question. Morbid curiosity? Or was there some part of him that cared about the answer? 

Cartman’s face darkened. “I don’t know. How do you think?” 

“Right…” Kyle tugged at his hat and looked away. He took another sip of beer. 

“Look, Kyle,” Cartman said. He was rubbing the back of his neck and staring intently at a shadow in the yard to avoid looking at Kyle. “Do you really wanna know?” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “I do.” 

“He’s a dick, ok? And it fucking sucks. He’s always around, and now my mom is always having guys over and she’s always high. Like, more than before. If that’s possible. I hate going home and I really just don’t know what the fuck to do.” 

Kyle hadn’t been expecting such a real answer. He’d expected Cartman to deflect, and make a rude comment about Kyle’s mom, or snap something about how it wasn’t Kyle’s business. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. He reached out a hesitant hand and put it on Cartman’s shoulder. To his surprise, Cartman didn’t shake him off.

“Can we talk about something else?” Cartman asked. 

“Yeah dude,” Kyle said. “Anyway…I’m glad you did ok on that math test! I didn’t want you to get sent to the stupid kids’ class.” 

“Yeah,” Cartman said. “Me neither.” 

Cartman gave Kyle a pointed look and it too a second too long for Kyle to realize his hand was still on Cartman’s back. He felt his cheeks heat up as he pulled his hand away. 

Then they spent an embarrassingly long time making very crude comments about the kids in the ‘stupid kids’ class,’ which Kyle felt a little guilty about but also couldn’t help laughing at. 

After a while the subject changed to their plans after high school. It was something the two had never really talked about. Not seriously, anyway. 

“Well, I was kind of thinking I could be a lawyer, like my dad,” Kyle said. 

“Oh, a Jew lawyer,” Cartman scoffed. “Original.” 

“Whatever fat ass, what do you wanna do when you graduate?” 

Cartman shrugged. “I don’t know I guess work at the corner store and smoke crack when I get off work to cope.” 

Kyle laughed. He expected Cartman to laugh too, and then say what he really wanted to do, but Cartman didn’t laugh. “Come on Cartman,” Kyle said. “You’re not serious.” 

“Why not? I mean, you’ll go off and be a fancy rich lawyer. Stan will go do some hippie gay shit, like maybe become a marine biologist or a zoologist or whatever, and me and Kenny will stay here in South Park. You can’t tell me you’ve never realize this before.” 

Kyle had never realized it before. He stared at Cartman and realized that he hadn’t just changed by becoming less demented than he’d been when they were kids – and there was no denying he’d been demented but maybe he’d had his reasons – he’d changed in other ways too. The Cartman Kyle knew in middle school, and hell even junior high and the early days of high school, had ambitions. Scary ambitions. Like, ambitions to be the CEO of an especially evil corporation, or a dictator of a powerful country. Not to smoke crack and work at the corner store. 

“Oh, lighten up Kyle,” Cartman said. “I’ve known this for years. It can’t seriously be news to you.” 

“It is news to me,” Kyle said. “I didn’t know you thought like that.” 

“Whatever,” Cartman said, taking a sip from his beer. “What’s it to you, anyway?” 

“What’s it to me?” Kyle asked, getting angry. He realized that the six pack was gone. He stood up, feeling a little light headed, and glared down at Cartman. “You’re kidding me. We’ve known each other since pre-school and you honestly expect me to just be chill with the fact that you’re totally prepared to go down the same path as your mom?” 

“Well, I guess I don’t have to smoke crack,” Cartman reasoned, with a sarcastic smirk. “I could always become an alcoholic like Stan.” 

“Goddammit this isn’t a joke fat boy!” Kyle yelled. A light turned on next door. He realized that he was possibly going to get the cops called on them which was the last thing he needed. 

He stormed inside, and Cartman followed, closing the door behind him. They were leaving a lot of crumbled beer cans on the back porch, but whatever. 

“Okay, just, it’s not that serious,” Cartman said. “Calm down.” 

“It’s not that serious?” Kyle turned on Cartman. “How can you say that? You’re talking about our futures.” 

“So? You’ll be a bigshot lawyer. I actually think you’ll be really good at it. Why do you care what happens to me?” 

“We’ve known each other since pre-school,” Kyle said. 

“Yeah,” Cartman said. “You said that already.” There was long pause. “Look,” Cartman said. “Let’s just watch TV for a while or something. Ok?” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “Whatever.” 

He wasn’t ready to let go of the issue that fast, but he was tired and didn’t want to get sucked into one of he and Cartman’s huge arguments because he knew from experience how those could spin out of control and he didn’t intend on having his parents come back from their trip to a police report. 

Kyle had no idea why he said what he said next, and he knew it was probably a mistake before the words left his lips. “My mom left her vodka under the sink.” 

Part of his brain was screaming that three beers each was enough and that this was a bad idea, but the other part was screaming that he just wanted the rest of the night to be fun. And there was another reason too, wasn’t there? One that had to do with the way Kyle couldn’t stop staring at Cartman as if seeing him for the first time. There was a sort of tension in the air, it was intangible and unbearable, and Kyle was desperate to break it. 

Five minutes later they were sitting on the couch with Terrance and Phillip on, sipping glasses of Double Dew with way too much vodka because neither had any idea how to make drinks. 

There was an electricity in the air, and Kyle didn’t like it. He tried to relax, leaning back and putting his feet up on the ottoman in front of him. After a bit, Cartman got up and refilled his drink and when he got back, he sat right next to Kyle and put his feet up on the ottoman too. 

As the episode ended and the theme song played, Cartman hesitantly leaned his head against Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle was pretty sure the smart thing to do would be to shake Cartman off, but the room was swaying and Cartman felt nice and soft against him and he didn’t mind, really. A new episode started, but neither was really watching anymore. 

“Mm,” Kyle said. “You’re warm.” 

“Yeah,” Cartman agreed. There was a long pause and Kyle thought Cartman might have fallen asleep. But then he spoke again, and his words were a little slurred. “You know, I don’t get why you’re so upset I’m not going to college or whatever. Always thought you’d be happy to outdo me…or whatever.” 

“What are you talking about fat ass?” Kyle muttered. 

“You know,” Cartman said. “C’mon Kyle don’t play dumb.” 

“Yeah, we’re a little competitive,” Kyle admitted. He sat up, and Cartman was forced to sit up too and look at him with wide baby blue eyes. God had Cartman’s eyes always been that adorable? Had his hair always looked that cute all ruffled and messy? Wait, what had they been talking about? Kyle shook himself internally. “But it’s not like I want to see you turn into your mom!” Kyle finished his point a little too late, but he was pretty sure Cartman was too drunk to notice how long Kyle had spent staring at his pretty face. 

“You’ve really got it out for my mom, huh?” Cartman said, completely missing the point, as usual. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Right,” Cartman muttered. 

“Look, I’m just saying….” Kyle sighed. Where was he even going with this? “We’ve been through a lot together, and I’ve seen the shit you’re capable of. You could take over the goddamn world if you wanted. Why waste that on working at a gas station and never leaving South Park?” 

“You really think I’m capable of a lot?” Cartman asked. He was staring at Kyle too hard and Kyle didn’t like the electricity he was feeling and he wanted to get up and walk away. He didn’t like the shiver that ran down his spine when Cartman looked at him like That. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Obviously. I’ve literally known you my whole life? Dumbass.” Cartman smiled at Kyle, and it was a smile like Kyle hadn’t seen from Cartman before. Soft. There was a bit of a pause and then Kyle yawned. “I’m going to bed,” he said, not so much because he was tired, but because he couldn’t stand Cartman looking at him like That any longer. 

“Okay,” Cartman agreed. “Goodnight, Kyle.” 

“Night fat ass,” Kyle said. 

Kyle leaned back again, and closed his eyes. A moment later, he felt the weight of Cartman leaning against him. And god, had Cartman always been so soft and warm and comfortable? Kyle relaxed into the weight against him and fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	5. the morning after

Kyle woke up to the sun from his front window shining directly in his eyes and the smell of Cartman’s morning breath right in his face. 

Wait. 

Wait. WHAT? 

Cartman’s morning breath? Kyle realized that the very heavy and soft form that he was currently hugging against him was Eric Cartman. Eric Cartman’s head was resting against Kyle’s chest, his hair brushing Kyle’s chin and…and Kyle didn’t exactly hate it? 

Every logical brain cell left in Kyle’s head was telling him to shove Cartman off him and start yelling but…but… well Cartman was really soft and warm and comfy, okay? 

Kyle didn’t want to move. He felt relaxed next to Cartman, even if his mind was racing, trying to remember how he had ended up cuddling his arch nemesis. 

They’d had a few of the beers Kyle’s parents had left in the fridge. And Kyle – god, he was an idiot – had suggested they get out Sheila’s vodka. How much vodka had they had? Kyle had only had one of those mountain dew vodka drinks the two had been so shitty at making, but how many had Cartman had? What would happen when Cartman woke up? Would Cartman try to blame this all on Kyle? Or would this be some secret the two of them kept from Stan and Kenny forever? And why did the idea of the latter give Kyle a weird and excited feeling in his belly? 

Despite the internal panic over blurry memories of the night before, Kyle couldn’t help but notice how adorable the round face resting against this chest really was. In sleep, with nothing evil planned and no rude comment on the tip of his tongue, there was something endearing about Cartman’s relaxed expression and messy hair. 

That didn’t last, because Cartman must have felt Kyle’s eyes on him, and his wide blue eyes flew open. 

“Kahl?” he mumbled, looking around without physically moving. 

Kyle could feel that Cartman was still totally relaxed against him. So at least the two were on the same page about not wanting to move. 

“Uh….yeah,” Kyle said. 

Cartman groaned and buried his face in Kyle’s chest and why the Fuck did that make Kyle’s insides turn over in a way that wasn’t exactly bad? 

“I don’t even…what happened last night?” 

“I think I told you not to throw your life away working at the local Kum and Go,” Kyle said. He paused. “Yeah I stand by that. Don’t throw your life away working at the local Kum and Go.” 

“K,” Cartman yawned without lifting his face off Kyle’s chest. 

They stayed like that for a good twenty minutes before Kyle reached to the side and grabbed his phone to check the time. It was 10 am. 

“Mm, we should probably get up,” he said. 

“No,” Cartman said, and pressed himself against Kyle and Kyle felt his stomach turn over but not exactly in a bad way. 

“What about breakfast?” Kyle asked. 

“What time is it?” 

“It’s like, noon dude.” 

“Noon? Goddamn. K. What kind of food do you have for breakfast?” 

“I don’t know. My parents went shopping before they left but also we could just go to Sizzler.” 

“Mm. Will you buy me pancakes?” 

“Why can’t you buy your own pancakes, fat ass?” 

“I don’t have any money, greedy Jew.” 

“What makes you think I have money?” 

“Because your parents definitely left you with plenty of money to go to Sizzler three times a day every day of the week.” 

“…Okay, fair point. But we have to get up.” 

“You’re gonna buy me pancakes?” 

“Only if you get off me.” 

“Yay!” Cartman sat up and stretched, grabbing his own phone off the floor and checking it. “Hey, it’s only like 10, it’s not even close to noon you liar!” 

“Do you want pancakes or not?” 

Ten minutes later they had both slushed around some mouth wash, put hats over their messy hair, slipped coats over their wrinkled clothes, and were out the door. Kyle revved up the engine and Cartman played with Kyle’s Spotify, switching songs every few seconds. After a bit, he settled on “Heaven is a Place on Earth.” 

They pulled into Sizzler and parked. When they got inside, they chose a booth towards the middle the restaurant and both ordered coffee. Kyle ordered his coffee black, and Cartman got some kind of crazy fancy coffee with a million special accommodations. 

Kyle sipped his black coffee, staring at the whip cream covered monstrosity Cartman was drinking. “Dude, you’re going to get diabetes before you’re twenty. You know that right?” 

“So?” Cartman said. “This is so worth it.” 

“That looks like it would make me sick after one sip,” Kyle said. 

“Dude, it’s amazing. Live a little,” Cartman said. Kyle rolled his eyes. “Here,” Cartman picked up a spoon and filled it with chocolatey whipped cream, scooping up the cherry from the top of his coffee.

He shoved the spoon towards Kyle’s face, and Kyle opened his mouth. Just as he was about to try the diabetes drink he was interrupted by the familiar voice of his best friend. “Kyle?” 

Kyle looked up to see Stan and Wendy standing next to their booth. Wendy looked disinterested, scrolling through her phone, but Stan looked concerned. 

“Oh, hey Stan,” Kyle said. “Hey Wendy.” 

“Hey Kyle,” Wendy said, without looking up. “Hey, Cartman.” 

“Uh, what are you guys doing here?” Stan asked. 

“It’s the Sizzler dude,” Cartman said. “We’re getting pancakes. Duh.” 

“Dude, you don’t have money for pancakes,” Stan said to Cartman. “You told me Friday you couldn’t afford to go see the Broncos game.” 

“Kyle is treating me,” Cartman said. “He’s being my sugar daddy for the day.” 

Kyle was used to joking around with the guys. He was even used to the weird moments when it felt almost like Cartman was flirting with him or something. So why did he feel his cheeks heating up? 

“Kyle dude what the fuck? You never buy me pancakes,” Stan said. 

“Stan!” Wendy snapped, looking up from her phone at last. “Kyle doesn’t have to buy you pancakes. I think it’s nice that you guys are having breakfast,” she added to Kyle. “Anyway, we’ll see you later.” 

As they walked off, Kyle heard Wendy muttering something to Stan in an angry, low voice. 

“Chicks man,” Cartman said. “Anyway, you gottta try this.” 

Cartman shoved the spoon filled with sickening sweetness towards Kyle and Kyle opened his mouth and tasted it. “Okay,” he admitted. “That’s pretty fucking good.” He paused, glancing over at Stan and Wendy who were sitting at a window booth. “What do you think is up with those two anyway?” he asked. 

“Dunno,” Cartman shrugged. “Straighties are wild man.” 

“Wait what?” Kyle asked, looking at Cartman blankly. 

Cartman’s face filled with color and he looked like he had no idea what to say, but he was rescued by the waitress asking for their order. 

Kyle asked for hash browns and eggs and a small order of pancakes, and Cartman ordered the largest serving of chocolate chip pancakes possible. 

They spent breakfast chatting about school and classmates and whether or not Token and Nicole would last this time around and if Garrison would actually be allowed quiz them on the latest season of Game of Thrones. 

After breakfast, they got back into Kyle’s mom’s car and Cartman started playing music again. 

“Wanna go to Stark’s pond?” Cartman asked. 

Kyle couldn’t think of a single reason why not, and they drove there with the windows down, music blasting. 

As they sat by the pond, Kyle skipped a rock in and it jumped across the water three times before sinking gracefully beneath the ripples. 

“Dude!” Cartman said. “Nice!” 

“Bet you can’t skip farther than me,” Kyle said, elbowing Cartman in the side. 

“Yeah,” Cartman said, looking down. “Nice try. I can’t pretend to compete there. Never could skip rocks.” 

“Really?” Kyle asked. “My dad taught me when I was like, I don’t know, five. You’ve seriously never skipped a rock?” 

“Dude…” Cartman said. “I don’t have a dad to teach me that shit. Remember?” 

“Right,” Kyle said. “But I mean, you could still - I mean, someone could still -I mean-” he was fumbling for words and he felt a huge sense of relief when Cartman interrupted. 

“Look, I just don’t know how to skip rocks, okay? Just fucking drop it. Jesus, Kyle.” 

“No way man,” Kyle said. “Look it’s easy. I’ll show you. You’ve just gotta find a nice, smooth, round rock.” He picked up the perfect skipping rock and placed it in Cartman’s hand. He wrapped an arm around Cartman and guided Cartman’s hand back. “Then, you’ve gotta toss it so that the edge hits the water just so.” He guided Cartman’s hand forward so that together they flipped the rock into the water. The edge hit the surface of the pond and it skipped twice. 

“Hey,” Cartman said. “Cool!” 

Kyle leaned back against the hillside behind them, and appreciated the grin on Cartman’s face that wasn’t at all cruel or mischievous, it was just…happy. 

They spent the afternoon skipping rocks and making stupid Terrance and Phillip jokes and giving each other shit. 

As the sun rose higher in the sky and they had to move to a spot in the shade, Kyle realized that this was one of the nicest days he’d had in a while. Weird that it was with Eric Cartman of all people. 

“Hey,” Cartman said. He was crouching over something near the shore. Kyle was hesitant to move away from the sycamore he was leaning against. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Check it out,” Cartman had his hands cupped around something.

“Do I want to see what you have in your hands?” asked Kyle. He was wary, but he still walked over and peeked into Cartman’s cupped palms. A tiny frog peeked out at him. “Aw, Cartman let him go. Don’t hurt frogs.” 

“Don’t hurt frogs?” Cartmn asked, looking offended. He opened his hands and let the little guy hop away. “I was just showing you Kyle, jeez.” 

“Sorry!” Kyle said. “Force of habit.” 

Cartman raised his eyebrows. 

“I have a little brother,” Kyle reminded Cartman. He didn’t want to ruin the nice day by saying that he sometimes still had to remind himself that Cartman wasn’t a total sociopath. Not anymore. Maybe he never had been. 

“Yeah,” Cartman said, lighting up. He seemed to believe Kyle. “You know, I used to come here all the time when I was a kid.” 

Kyle moved back into the shade, leaning against the sycamore, and Cartman sat down next to him. 

“We’re still kids,” Kyle said, not wanting to acknowledge how close to graduating and having to be forced into adulthood they really were. “And duh. We all did? I was literally there for your whole childhood dumbass.” 

“Yeah,” Cartman said. “But also, um, you really weren’t Kyle.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyle asked. 

“I just mean, yeah we’ve known each other since pre-school but it’s not like you were always around. I used to come here all by myself all the time.” 

“Really?” Kyle asked. 

“Yeah. When you and Stan were off doing your thing, or whatever. It’s not like I was always invited.” 

“Don’t be like that-” Kyle started, but Cartman waved him off. 

“I mean, I get it. I was invited a lot. Probably more than I deserved. That’s still the case.” 

“Well you can be a raging asshole,” Kyle said. 

“How exactly does an asshole rage, Kyle?” 

“You would know, fat ass.” 

“Whatever. Point is, I would come here and like, catch frogs. Wanna know something really fucking gay?” 

“Probably not.”

“I would bring my stuffed animals here. Remember Clyde frog?” 

“I remember thinking you had a stalker and sneaking out at night to try and protect you only for it to turn out that you were destroying your own stuffed animals and Clyde frog being one of the ‘victims.’” Kyle made air quotes with his fingers around the last word. 

“Yeah I was a fucked up kid.” 

“Still are.” 

“Anyway, Clyde frog would meet up with all his frog ‘friends,’” Cartman made air quotes around the word ‘friends.’ “And it would be like…I don’t know. Like I had finally found a crowd I was cool with.” 

“Wow,” Kyle said. There was a long pause. “Yeah Cartman, that is really fucking gay.” 

They both laughed and then sat in silence for a bit. 

“Hey Kyle?” Cartman said. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks.” 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know. Everything. Last night. Today.” 

“Yeah well, you owe me for the pancakes,” Kyle said. 

“Dude, I’m being seriously.” 

“I’m being seriously too,” Kyle said. 

Cartman rolled his eyes at the mocking comment. “Okay but real talk Kyle, you don’t know how nice this has been.” 

“You’re starting to scare me,” Kyle joked. “Who are you and what have you done with Eric Cartman?” 

“My therapist says I’m reprogramming my brain,” Cartman said. Kyle knew Cartman was in therapy, but he didn’t bring it up that often. “Like, installing new software, or whatever. So maybe the old Eric Cartman is mostly gone.” 

“Good,” said Kyle. “He was kind of an anti-Semitic dickhole.” 

They spent the rest of the afternoon by stark’s pond until Cartman announced that he was hungry and Kyle realized it was getting close to dinnertime. 

“Can I come over for dinner? My mom is being a total bitch and hasn’t made anything other than ramen in like, a month,” Cartman said. 

“Dude,” Kyle said. “Not to kick you out but uh, won’t your mom like, wonder where you are?” 

Cartman’s laugh answered that question, and Kyle started the car and headed in the direction of his own house. 

After a dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread Kyle took a shower and laid out his clothes for the next day while Cartman played Xbox and then took a turn playing while Cartman prepped for the school the next day.

Kyle went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and when he came out, he found Cartman laying on his bed, scrolling through his phone. 

“Uh, so, if you’re staying the night you can stay on the sofa or like-”

“Dude no fair,” Cartman said. “Your bed is so comfy.” 

“Yeah, well it’s my bed.” 

“You have a king size mattress,” Cartman pointed out. “There’s really no reason we can’t share.” 

Kyle couldn’t object to that, and he crawled into bed beside Cartman, plugging in his phone and setting it on his nightstand. He clicked off the light. 

After a bit, Cartman spoke into the darkness. “Hey Kyle,” he said. 

“Yeah?” 

“When are your parents coming back?” 

“I think tomorrow,” Kyle said. 

“Oh.” Cartman sounded oddly upset over this news. 

“Why?” Kyle asked. 

“I don’t know. Just wondering.” 

After about an hour, Cartman drifted off. Kyle couldn’t sleep and ended up looking at his phone. There was a text from Stan. 

“Dude, what’s up with u and fat ass?” 

“idk, what you mean?” Kyle texted back, despite knowing damn well what Stan meant. 

Kyle shifted, opening Instagram. There was a picture of Craig and Tweek sitting together on the slide posted by Clyde with the caption ‘gay,’ a picture of Wendy giving a peace sign with the caption ‘angel,’ posted by Bebe, and a picture of Sparky captioned ‘my Bud,’ posted by Stan. 

He finally fell asleep when Cartman rolled over next to him and wrapped an arm around him. Kyle found himself leaning into Cartman and pressing his face into his chest, and only then did he drift into a peaceful sleep. 

The next morning, Kyle woke up first and made coffee and eggs for both of them. He yawned looking at his phone while he waited for Cartman to wake up. When it started getting close to time to leave, he went upstairs and shook Cartman awake.   
“Hey! Fat ass! You gotta wake up if you wanna have time for breakfast.” 

“Ughhhh,” Cartman said, rolling over so he was facedown in bed. “Shut up Kyle. Leave me alone.” 

“Dude, I made breakfast,” Kyle said. “Eggs. Coffee. Come on.” 

He tackled Cartman, and shook him hard by the shoulders. “Wake! Up! Stupid! Fat! Ass!” he yelled, laughing a little. 

“Fuck off Jew!” Cartman said, trying to hide his smile and bury his face in the covers. 

Then Kyle heard a familiar voice which would normally be welcome, but at this moment was the last thing he wanted to hear. 

“WHAT – WHAT – WHAT?” 

Both boys froze. Neither had heard the door open and Sheila, Gerald and Ike Broflovski coming in and heading up the stairs. 

Sheila Broflovski was standing in the doorway, and she looked livid. 

“Ma-” Kyle started. 

But it was no good. Kyle had seen this look in his mom’s face plenty of times before, and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. They were in big trouble.


	6. bi people have gay superpowers too

“Dude what happened over the weekend?” Stan asked. Wendy was sitting on his lap and he was little distracted by the smell of strawberry shampoo and the feeling of her shifting as she picked at her vegan tofu stir fry. 

“I don’t know,” Kyle was shifting uncomfortably, and refused to look at Stan. Kenny and Cartman were nowhere to be seen. 

“Talk to me man,” Stan said. 

“Oh my god,” Wendy said, twisting to look at Stan. “He doesn’t wanna talk because I’m here. You guys really need to just grow up and talk to each other. Kyle I’m gonna go sit with the girls today. Sorry Stan doesn’t understand when it’s okay to ask about certain things. I hope you had a fun weekend.” 

She stalked off towards the girls’ table, where she sat down next to Bebe and Heidi and Stan half noticed that Heidi and Bebe were sharing a seat before he turned back to his best friend. 

“Okay,” he said. “She is being so weird lately.” 

“Yeah.” Kyle seemed to be only half listening. 

“DUDE,” Stan said. “Now it’s just us at the table. What the hell happened? Did you have a sleepover with Cartman? And where the hell are Cartman and Kenny anyway?” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “He kinda…stayed the night. Twice.” Stan didn’t disregard the fact that Kyle was ignoring the second part of his question. 

“WHAT?” Stan asked. “I thought you were pissed at him for getting you Saturday detentions for a month?” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “Well it doesn’t matter. I don’t think Cartman and I are going to be hanging out for a while.” 

“Um, what?” Stan asked. “We have plans for all of us to hang out at my house and watch the new Sharknado movie this weekend, remember?” It was clear from Kyle’s face that he did not remember. 

“Dude, you have to start checking the group chat!” Stan said. 

“Well,” Kyle shifted. “Ever since you invited Wendy it’s kinda just you two being all gross.” 

“No it isn’t!” Stan argued. Okay, maybe it totally was. But still. Kyle was the one who’d spent the weekend getting cozy with Cartman. 

“Whatever, I can’t go see the Sharknado movie with you guys,” Kyle said. 

“Why the hell not?” Stan asked. “You and Cartman fight all the time and we still manage to get together as a group. What could’ve possibly happened?” 

“Ugh,” Kyle leaned his forehead against the cafeteria table. Stan raised his eyebrows. Kyle Broflovski who was too grossed out by germs to go to the public pool was allowing his face to touch the grimy table in the South Park high school cafeteria? “We’re not fighting,” he said. 

“Then what’s going on?” Stan pressed. 

“My mom kinda…banned me from hanging out with Cartman.” 

“Why?” Stan asked. 

“She uh, kinda got the wrong idea.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, see, the thing is,” Kyle’s head was still pressed against the cafeteria table. “She kinda walked in on me and Cartman uh, wrestling and-”

“DUDE!” Stan yelled. “What does your mom think?” 

“She’s totally wrong dude!” Kyle said, sitting up straight and looking at Stan with pleading eyes. “You have to believe me.” He looked around. Butters had looked up from his conversation with Dougie but was drawn back in pretty quickly and no one else was looking at them. “And keep it down,” he added to Stan anyway. 

“Of course I believe you!” Stan said. He was thrown off by Kyle’s desperate request. Why wouldn’t he believe him? “But even if your mom did get…the wrong idea. I don’t get it. It’s not like your parents are homophobic.” 

“Oh!” Kyle said. “No, they’re not. At all. But you know, it’s not like my mom wants me dating – NOT that that’s the case – someone who openly makes fun of me for being Jewish.” 

“Ohhh,” Stan finally got it. “Yeah dude. Well you just have to convince them about what was really going on.” 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “Except, have you met my mom?” 

“Fair point,” Stan conceded. “So, what ended up happening?” 

“My mom totally chewed Cartman out. She sent me to school and sat there yelling at him for who knows how long. I haven’t seen him at school at all today. She could still be yelling.” 

“Shit…” Stan said. “Dude, that sucks.” He couldn’t help but imagine Cartman getting totally reamed by Sheila Broflovski and a slight grin spread across his face. “For Cartman.” 

Kyle groaned and pressed his forehead against the cafeteria table again. 

Back at the Broflovski residence, Cartman was absolutely getting chewed out by Sheila Broflovski, and it did totally suck for him. 

At the same time as Stan and Kyle were talking about their weekend plans, Cartman was just getting done listening to an intensive lecture on why it wasn’t okay to make fun of Jewish people or use the term “Jew” if he wasn’t Jewish. 

Whether he asked or not, every question Cartman might ever have had about Judaism was getting answered. He was learning about the Holocaust and the history of anti-Semitism in America and the values of the Jewish faith and holy shit some of the stuff they believed was actually kinda nice and aligned with his own morals? 

Cartman had not been able to get in a word edgewise for the past hour or so because when Sheila Broflovski got started it was hard to stop her. She was filled with all the fiery rage of a mom convinced her son was being mistreated. 

And hey, she wasn’t totally wrong. 

“Hey,” Cartman said when she finally took a breath. Then he said something that he was pretty sure his therapist would award him a medal for when he told her about it. “You’re right. I’ve been working on it but I can still be an ass--- um, I can still be super rude. I’m sorry.” 

Sheila clearly had not been expecting that response. She opened and closed her mouth a few times without saying anything. “Well thank you Eric,” she said. “But I still don’t want you dating my son.” 

“OH!” Cartman said. Despite coming up with Certain Realizations over the weekend and waking up with the need to roll over onto his stomach when Kyle entered the bedroom that morning so that Kyle didn’t notice Certain Things, Cartman found himself ready to protest. “Mrs. Broflovski, I am NOT dating Kyle!” 

“That’s even worse!” she said. “Don’t you boys know that casual hookups aren’t healthy?” 

“We weren’t hooking up either!” Cartman said. “I swear, Mrs. Broflovski. I was just staying the night. As a…friend.” 

Well, that felt weird to say. But if not as a friend, then what was he staying the night as? A childhood nemesis turned cautious ally? A frenemy maybe? 

Less than a minute later, Cartman was walking down the streets of South Park alone, wishing he had never stayed a second night at Kyle’s house even if it had been the best night’s sleep he’d had in months. 

It was about lunchtime, so he could go to school and get lunch but then he’d have to explain to Garrison why he was late and more importantly, he’d have to face Kyle. Yeah, no thanks. 

Sheila Broflovski had said a lot of things that were upsetting and her assumption that Kyle and Cartman were hooking up was bringing up all kinds of complicated emotions that Cartman didn’t want to deal with. 

He knew he could be a dick. He had been really trying to get better and be better with therapy and he thought he was getting somewhere. But Sheila’s fury at hearing her son called a ‘Jew’ had made him realize that maybe he wasn’t really trying hard enough. As they got older he and Kyle had started getting along a lot better but honestly, he had never totally thought through the reasons behind Kyle getting so mad about being called a ‘Jew.’ It was like Kyle calling him a ‘fat ass.’ That’s just…what they did. If any outsider questioned Cartman and Kyle’s bickering one of them usually jumped in with ‘that’s just how we are.’ 

But maybe it was time to change that. Maybe ‘that’s just how we are’ wasn’t a good excuse anymore. Wasn’t his therapist always saying changing his relationships wasn’t necessarily bad? 

Cartman thought about his Uncle Howard, making friends with Charles Manson in prison. And his horrible, alcoholic, hateful aunt and uncle. Even his mom, who he loved with all his heart, was a homophobic, transphobic, racist, and all around bigoted person and he had to acknowledge that. There was a reason he’d never come out to her. 

Was Kyle hearing shitty ‘Jew’ jokes from Cartman all the time something like Cartman hearing his mom trash any gay rights movement and laugh at gay celebrities and side-eye the Tweak and Tucker families when she passed them in the store? 

Wait, was he experiencing empathy right now? Damn, his therapist would be so proud. He almost laughed. Feeling empathy. What a little victory to be proud over. Yet here he was. 

But he wasn’t anti-Semitic the way he had been when he was younger, right? Kyle knew that, right? Or was Kyle just used to Cartman calling him a Jew? 

Cartman thought about going to school and talking to Kyle about this. But sitting at Stark’s pond listening to the frogs and staring at the water pretending school and Sheila Broflovski and everything else Bad didn’t exist seemed a lot more appealing. 

Instead of dealing with any of the shit on his mind, Cartman walked to Stark’s Pond and practiced skipping rocks. He kind of sucked at it. Three tries in and he managed to get a rock to skip once. Another little victory. 

After a bit, he got kind of bored and lonely and he wasn’t loving being alone with his thoughts, so he dialed a familiar number. Ten minutes later a boy in an orange hoodie with messy blond hair was riding his bike towards where Cartman was sitting, leaning against a tree. 

“Hey,” Kenny said. 

“Hey, Kenny,” Cartman said. 

“So, you faced the wraith of Sheila Broflovski, huh?” 

“Yep.” 

“Well, you did kinda have it coming,” Kenny said. He dropped his bike and sat down next to Cartman, patting him on the shoulder. 

“KENNY!” 

“Well. You have been making violently anti-Semitic comments about her son and her family since like, I don’t know, pre-school?” 

“I-” Cartman was ready to protest but he just sighed. “Okay, you’ve got me there.” 

“Mhm,” Kenny said. He patted Cartman on the back again. 

“There’s something else,” Cartman said. “I kinda…” 

“Have a big fat crush on Kyle Broflovski and have since you were nine?” 

“Okay, no! But maybe I…don't totally hate him?” 

“No shit. You’ve wanted to bang him since the fourth grade.” 

“Gross Kenny.” 

“Nah, I’m just honest.” 

“What makes you think you know who I want to bang better than I do?”

“It’s called gay telepathy. Gays can tell who other gays want to bang. Also I’ve been watching you two and your weird foreplay for how long?” 

“I thought you were bi. And what foreplay?” 

“Bi people have gay superpowers too fat piece of shit stop being so fucking bi-phobic. And come on. Even you aren’t this dense. You two are obsessed with each other.” 

Cartman sighed. “Yeah.” He buried his face in his hands. He was in no way giving in to Kenny’s insistence that he and Kyle constantly fighting was somehow ‘foreplay’ but he was exhausted, and because he himself didn’t have a firm grasp on what exactly Kyle was to him he didn’t have it in him to argue with Kenny over it. “I don’t even know man, it was just such a nice weekend.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure being away from your drugged-up mom and her creepy pimp was pretty fucking nice.” 

“We cuddled. Me and Kyle. And he bought me pancakes at Sizzlers.” 

“Okay,” Kenny said. “So, when are you making a move?” 

“Making a move? Are you crazy? Kyle hates me. Besides, his mom isn’t letting us near each other in the next century. Besides, I didn’t say I had feelings for him. Fuck off. Stop laughing Kenny, this isn’t funny.” 

“Yeah, cuddling you and taking you on a breakfast date really sounds like hating you to me,” Kenny said, trying to stifle his laughter, but not trying hard enough for Cartman’s taste. “And there are ways of getting around his mom.” 

“Fuck my life,” Cartman moaned. “I’m just gonna throw myself out a window, k?” 

“K.” 

“You’re such a good friend Kenny.” 

“Yeah I know. You’re very lucky to have me.” 

“Fuck you, Kenny.” 

“No thanks Cartman, I have standards.”


	7. shameless john mulaney referencing from the writer

Kyle didn’t see Cartman all week and he was almost surprised when he showed up to their Saturday detention. 

This was their second to last detention, and Kyle found himself stressing that Cartman wouldn't show up. It was almost October, which meant haunted houses, pumpkin patches, and all kinds of other fun stuff for Kyle, Stan Kenny and Cartman to get into. Cartman probably had all kinds of fucked up tricks in mind. He probably planned on putting fireworks under cars and throwing toilet paper over houses and Kyle was totally prepared to talk him out of any such plans, or, if it came to it, physically stop him. If Cartman didn't show up to one of his last detentions he could get sucked into another month of cleaning the school.

Wait, why was he worried about this? Why should he care if Cartman got another month of detention? Kyle shook himself. He was probably just feeling sorry for Cartman because of his mom and stuff. It was nothing. It didn't mean anything. 

Kyle told his mom he was going to the park with Stan and Kenny as he left for detention, and hoped that she didn’t call either of their parents since he hadn’t really cleared this cover story with either of them. 

When Cartman showed up, Kyle shoved aside the huge wave of relief he felt for some fucking reason and settled on anger. That was almost always the best feeling to settle on when it came to Eric Cartman. 

“Dude,” he said, walking over the cafeteria table where Cartman was sitting and playing on his phone. “Where the hell have you been?” 

“I had stuff to do,” Cartman said, without looking away from his phone. Kyle looked over his shoulder with no hesitation, his chin resting against Cartman’s shoulder. 

“Like playing on Tumblr?” 

“Yeah Kyle, I missed a whole week of school to play on Tumblr.” 

“I’m surprised you’re even on that site. Aren’t they like, the champions of PC-ness or whatever?” 

“Who says I’m not PC?” 

“DUDE.” Kyle glared at Cartman until Cartman dragged his eyes away from the screen and looked up at him. 

Cartman sighed and turned off his phone, finally giving Kyle his full attention. “Look, I felt really bad after your mom went off on me and I went to Nebraska.” 

“NEBRASKA?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What the hell were you doing there?” 

“Visiting family.”

“Why? You hate your family.”

“Yeah, that’s the point. I spent a week with my fat, racist, white trash family and remembered exactly the kind of person I don’t want to be.” 

“What the hell are you talking about Cartman you’re the definition of fat, racist, white trash.” 

“Thanks, Kyle,” Cartman said.

“Boys,” Mr. Garrison’s voice said. They looked up to see Mr. Garrison standing near their table. “This cafeteria isn’t going to clean itself. I’ll be in my classroom, grading your papers on the Game of Thrones finale. You all better have great sections prepared on Daenerys’ leadership.” 

He walked off after that, and Kyle and Cartman headed reluctantly towards the janitor’s closet to get the cleaning supplies. 

Five minutes later they were each scrubbing a table. 

“So, you really went to Nebraska to see your family just to remind yourself how awful they are?” Kyle asked. 

“Yep. You know, all the times you tried to tell me how much of a racist asshole I was, I guess I just wasn’t ready to hear it. Which is totally not an excuse. I know that. Having your mom go off like that, I don’t know. I just. Realized how she must feel seeing her son uhhh h-hanging out with someone like that. I’m sorry Kyle.” 

“Wow,” Kyle said. In all honesty, he was totally shocked. He kinda just stood there with his jaw hanging open for a few seconds, totally forgetting the wet rag in his hand. “You’re serious, huh?” 

Cartman had not stopped cleaning and refused to look at Kyle. He was scrubbing a spot that had been clean a good two or three minutes. 

“Yeah. I’m serious.” 

Wow, not even 'I'm seriously.' Just, 'I'm serious,' thought Kyle. This was serious. And Kyle had absolutely no idea how to process it. 

“Okay,” he said. “Hey so…I’m not really supposed to hang out with you anymore but would you want to maybe go watch Sharknado 6 with the guys later? We can just not tell my mom you’re coming.” 

“Really? Sweet,” Cartman said. 

The rest of the morning went by a lot faster after that, and the two talked about the other Sharknado movies and got into a heated debate over whether the Sharks were the villains or heroes. Cartman was way too convinced that the Sharks were the heroes, and really didn’t deserve the hate they got. Of course, he was. 

‘We’ll be there at 2:30,’ Kyle texted Stan. 

'Thought you couldn’t come?’

‘We’ll just tell my mom Cartman didn’t come.’

Stan texted back 'K.' 

After detention, Kyle headed towards the car and Cartman walked with him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

As they drove, Cartman played with the music. This was becoming kind of a routine, and Kyle was surprised that he didn’t exactly hate it. 

“Ooh KFC!” Cartman pointed out. 

“Yep.” 

“KAHLLLLLL….” 

“What?” 

“Can we-”

“No.” 

“But why nohhhhhhht? I’m hungryyy.” 

“Dude, I’m not getting you KFC.” 

“PLEASE?” 

Kyle pulled into the drive through. He pulled up to the window. A bored Henrietta Biggle was sitting in the window smacking gum and scrolling through her phone. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in a messy bun. 

“What can I get for you?” 

“One black coffee,” Kyle said. 

“WHAT?”

Kyle smirked as he pulled up to the next window and paid for his coffee. 

He pulled out of the drive-through and headed in the direction of the Marsh house. 

“Dude, what the hell?” Cartman said. “I’m starving!” 

Then Kyle saw the last person he wanted to see. His Dad was walking out of the Kum and Go carrying a bag and checking his phone. Thank goodness for Gerald Broflovski’s decision to check his phone in that moment because Kyle had just enough time to yell “Get down!” to Cartman before Gerald looked up.

Cartman took a second to realize what was happening and Kyle reached over and shoved Cartman forward. Luckily, Cartman caught on and leaned forward, pressing his head to his knees. His back was still definitely visible if Gerald decided to look through the window though, and Kyle pulled him to the side so that Cartman was practically on his lap. 

“Hey, Kyle!” Gerald yelled, waving. Kyle sighed as he pulled up to a red light and rolled down his window. 

“Hey dad,” he said. 

“How’s it going?” 

“Pretty good.” Cartman was trying very hard not to laugh and Kyle could feel him shaking. 

“I thought you were hanging out with Stan and Kenny today?” 

“I am, I was just um, getting some coffee.” He held up the coffee from KFC as proof. 

“Oh okay,” Gerald said. “Well, have fun!” 

Kyle practically peeled through the red light taking off way over the speed limit and swerving to avoid hitting a group of fourth graders. 

When they were about a block away, Cartman sat up and he was shaking with laughter. 

“Oh man,” he said. “I hope your parents are against us hanging out forever.” 

“That was not cool,” Kyle said. “If he’d seen you my parents would’ve had both our heads.” 

“Yeah,” Cartman admitted. “Still. It’s kind of fun sneaking around.” 

“For you,” Kyle said. “Because you’re an asshole.” 

“Shut up stupid J-” Cartman fumbled. “Stupid retard,” he corrected himself. Like that was a better or more acceptable insult. Cartman was so fucking stupid. 

“Ooh nice comeback,” Kyle mocked. 

“Whatever just because I’m not calling you a Jew anymore doesn’t mean I can’t find other things about you to make fun of. Ginger fag.” 

“Okay, white trash KFC addicted lard butt.” Cartman looked ready to come back with another insult, but Kyle spoke first. “Annnd, there’s Stan’s house.”

He parked the car, and they went inside where Stan and Kenny were waiting. 

“Hey guys,” Stan said. “The movie starts in an hour, so let’s go to the dollar store and get some snacks.” 

Two and half very fun hours later the four had seen what Kyle would have to categorize as one of the worst films ever made and they were buzzing. Kenny’s favorite part was the hot blonde’s death, Stan couldn’t get over the giant great white that had devoured three people in two seconds. It had been great. 

They hung out at Stan’s house and talked about the movie and played video games for a few hours before Sharon announced that it was time for dinner and Stan had to kick them out. 

Because Kyle had his mom’s car, he gave Kenny and Cartman rides home. He dropped off Kenny first and then took Cartman home. There was a bright yellow Lincoln parked out front. 

“Who’s that?” Kyle asked, nodding to the car. 

“My mom’s pimp I told you about,” Cartman said. A sickened look crossed Cartman’s face that Kyle had only seen a few times before. Cartman quickly hid his expression and tried to look casual. But Kyle didn’t miss the way Cartman’s fists were balled with his nails digging into his palms. 

“What’s he doing here?” 

Cartman raised his eyebrows and Kyle felt like smacking himself. “Right,” he said. “Well…Look, do you want to come over?” 

“What? What about your parents? Us never hanging out again? Remember? Your parents having both our heads?” 

“Shit,” Kyle sighed. “Look, I can probably convince my mom-”

“Dude, you are not going to convince your mom about anything,” Cartman said. “Have you met your mom?” 

“You know what?” Kyle said. “Fuck it. You should just come over. I’m seventeen years old. It’s not like my mom can control who I hang out with forever.” 

Of course, his mom most definitely would control most things about his life for-probably-ever and Kyle knew it. But he was putting his foot down on this. 

He couldn’t bring himself to drop Cartman off here, not after that look in Cartman’s eyes when he saw the yellow Lincoln. 

“Kyle…dude, I literally live here. It’s not like -” 

“No arguments,” Kyle said, pulling away from the Cartman residence. “This is happening.” He was going to give Cartman a home cooked meal and a night of sound sleep – again – if it got them both killed. His mom could just deal with it. Maybe Kyle rarely stood up to his mom, but he had always done so when he really needed to and right now, he really needed to. 

“Damn okay,” Cartman said. He leaned back and Kyle caught a small smile from the corner of his eye that almost made the huge drama he was about to start totally worth it.

When they got to the Broflovski residence, Cartman was a little less confident.

“Kyle, are you sure-”

“Yep. Let’s go.” 

They marched inside, Kyle practically dragging Cartman with him. Sheila and Gerald were in the kitchen chopping vegetables and Ike was watching Terrance and Phillip in the living room. He just watched in silence as Kyle and Cartman walked past him to the kitchen. 

“Kyle!” Sheila said. “What is Eric Cartman doing here?” She glared at Cartman. “I thought I told you I didn’t want you hanging around my son anymore?”

“Ma, Cartman is my friend and I invited him over for dinner.” Kyle stood up tall, puffing his chest out. He may have been taller than his mom, but internally, he shrank before her seething glare. 

Sheila was clearly trying not to burst. “Fine!” she said. “But Kyle, we will talk about this later.” 

Kyle tried not to think about 'later.' He just glared and headed to the living room dragging Cartman behind him to watch TV with Ike while they waited for dinner. 

It was a very awkward dinner. Sheila glared at Kyle the entire time. He pretended not to see, casually eating his food. He chewed a mouthful of mashed potatoes super slowly, pretending not to feel his mother's gaze. 

“So,” Gerald said, trying to break the silence. “Eric, How’s your mom doing?” 

“Pretty shitty,” Cartman said, shoveling food into his mouth. Kyle glared at Cartman. 

“Oh?” Gerald asked. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Yep,” Cartman said through a mouthful of food. 

After that, the conversation was pretty scarce. 

When they finished, Kyle insisted that he and Cartman would do the dishes, but Sheila grabbed him by the arm and told him she needed to talk to him. 

“Wait for me in my room,” Kyle said to Cartman, who looked reluctant but nodded when he saw the look on Kyle’s face. 

“Bubbe,” Sheila said when Cartman had left and it was just her and Kyle in the room. “What is going on with you and that boy?” 

“Nothing, Ma! I’ve been hanging out with Cartman since pre-school.” 

“And you’ve been having him over for dinner since pre-school?” 

“Well no, but-”

“Kyle, be honest with me.” 

“I am being honest, Ma!” 

“I don’t like the way he talks to you.” 

“I know, but that’s just how he is. We talked about the whole ‘Jew’ thing. He’s not gonna say it anymore.” 

“If he hurts you-”

“Ma! It’s not like we’re dating.” 

Sheila sighed. “I miss when you shared things with me.” 

“Ma, I do share things with you!” Kyle said. “I promise. There’s nothing going on. Cartman’s just kinda having a tough time at home right now.” 

“Well, okay,” Sheila said. 

“Really?” Kyle asked. “That was easy.” He was always suspicious when anything was too easy with his mom. 

Sheila sighed. “Kyle you’re almost an adult now. I know I can’t control who you spend time with forever. I just want you to make good decisions.” 

“Ma, Cartman is going through a lot at home right now,” Kyle said. “I’m just trying to be a good friend.” 

Sheila looked like she wanted to ask more, but for once she bit her tongue. Kyle was glad because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she’d been about to ask. He wasn’t sure if he’d have a good answer for her. 

“Leave your door open if you boys are going to hang out in your room. And don’t think this is the last time we’re talking about this. I’m not in support of whatever is going on with you boys at all.” 

“I like girls, Ma!” 

“Okay, Kyle,” she said. She didn’t look totally happy, but she seemed to have accepted at least for the time being that Cartman was going to be hanging out at the house. And that was something. 

Kyle walked off and went upstairs where Cartman was already laying in his bed. Kyle left the door cracked as per his mom’s – very silly – request, and flopped down on the bed next to Cartman. 

“Sorry about that.” 

“No worries. I totally had it coming.” 

“You could’ve been a little nicer at dinner. You didn’t even thank my parents for cooking for you!” 

“Whatever dude, you’re the one who dragged me over here even though I would’ve totally gone home.” 

“I didn’t wanna leave you there, dude. I would’ve felt like shit dropping you off with that creep over.” 

Cartman sat up. He looked pissed. “So that’s what this is? You’re being nice to me all of a sudden because I opened up just a little bit and you get your dick hard by pitying anyone who doesn’t have your perfect family?” 

“Of course I feel bad for you, but it’s not like th-”

“You do realize you’ve known my mom almost your whole life and the situation’s been kinda shitty on and off since I’ve known you, right? Like, this isn’t new Kyle,” Cartman interrupted, seething. 

He stood up and got ready to leave the room. 

“I know, but you weren’t exactly an angel as a kid Cartman, you can’t blame me for-”

“I’m not blaming you for anything! I’m just saying, I don’t need your pity. Whatever’s going on with you, why don’t you go volunteer at a soup kitchen or whatever you hippies do to jerk yourselves off and leave me out of it.” 

“Fine,” Kyle said. He was done being talked over and yelled at for trying to be a decent person. He stood up, glaring and standing over Cartman. “Then get out of my house.” 

“Alright. Bye asshole.” 

“Cartman!” 

“What?” 

“You know, eventually, you’re going to realize that you either have to let someone help you out whether it’s me or someone else, or you are going to go down the exact same shitty path as your mom and everyone else in your family.” 

As soon as he said it, Kyle wished he could take it back but it was too late. Cartman’s face darkened and he turned around and left the room without looking back. Kyle watched out of the window as Cartman headed off in the direction of his house where Kyle imagined the creepy yellow Lincoln was still parked outside.

It was starting to get dark out and Kyle felt like shit for leaving Cartman to walk home alone in the dark when he would’ve totally driven him. But he wasn’t going to apologize for being nice. He had no reason to and Cartman could die mad about it. They’d fought a million times before, after all. So why did Kyle feel like throwing himself out a window this time?


	8. vending machines & electricity

‘Fucking h8 #fake assholes who pretend to care just to make themself feel good :/’ 

In the tags of his stupid gay emo Tumblr post, Cartman typed, ‘it rly sucks when u think u found some1 who gives a shit but relize they dont :)’ ‘I shouldnt be surprised tho..not like i deserve shit from him or any1 :)’

He was laying on his stomach looking at his shitty 2012 laptop and ignoring a pile of homework to scroll Tumblr. A bag of cheesy poofs was sitting open next to him on the bed. 

God, he was so stupid and fake edgy and ughhhh what was he doing on Tumblr of all fucking sites? Kyle had been right – it was basically ‘Be PC or fucking DIE: The website.’ And that wasn’t Cartman at all. He’d made the account ‘the-coon’ when he had his little mental breakdown and went to Nebraska for a week where he had almost died of boredom. The idea to visit his white trash Nebraska family in hopes that they’d reminded him of the worst parts of himself that needed to change had been good in theory. In practice, it had been really fucking dull and Cartman had spent most of the time just playing on his phone or walking around the mall eating soft pretzel bites. Turns out when you hate people, spending time with them doesn’t make for a very fun time. 

His bio read ‘eric. 17. small town gay with big dick energy so respect my authorty’ And most of his posts were gifs of Terrance and Philip and pictures of fat cats but about every fourth or fifth post was an edgy meme about wanting to die. 

A minute later, the little number ‘1’ appeared in the corner of the screen above his ask box. Cartman only had like ninety followers and he was pretty sure a lot of them were porn bots so he was honestly surprised to be getting an ask. He opened it and a little face with sunglasses next to the word ‘anonymous’ appeared on his screen. 

‘hey…I actually know you in real life and I just wanted to say you do deserve good thing and for people to care about you and stuff…even if you can be kind of mean sometimes.’ 

‘WHO IS THIS???’ Cartman immediately typed back, and posted the ask. 

His heart was racing. He had that he was gay in his bio. If anyone other than Kenny saw it he’d be outed. The only other gay kids at school were Tweek and Craig, and everyone was cool with them but still, they had been out since like fourth grade so everyone was used to them. Cartman felt sick at the idea of Stan and Kyle and Butters and Wendy and Heidi and everyone else finding out he was gay. Especially Kyle. They had cuddled. What would Kyle say if he knew Cartman was gay? Would he be disgusted? Try to accuse of Cartman of wanting to get with him? Laugh? He wanted to throw his lap top but instead he kept refreshing the page. 

Finally, another ‘1’ appeared above the mailbox image in the corner of his screen. Cartman clicked on his inbox. It took way too long to load and he felt like he was about to go crazy. 

‘not saying. we used to be close but don’t really talk anymore. just wanted to share some support because you seem sad tonight.’ 

‘DUDE. I’m seriously! If you rly wanna show support tell me who the fuck u r cause I dont want most IRL people following me here.’ 

For the next hour Cartman kept refreshing Tumblr waiting for another ask, but none ever came. Goddammit. 

God, he was so fucking screwed. FUCK. Fuck. God fucking damn it. Cartman tossed and turned basically all night. 

When he finally got to school the next day, he was pretty sure he looked like shit and that was confirmed when he ran into Stan. 

“Dude, you look like shit,” Stan said.

“Thanks.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Cartman lied. “Just didn’t get a lot of sleep.” 

They walked together to first bell. About halfway through class, Cartman felt Stan shaking him and realized he’d started to drift off. He kind of went through the day in a daze, only half awake. Then it was lunch and Cartman felt a lot more awake when he saw Stan, Kenny and Kyle standing together near the entrance to the cafeteria. It was routine for the four of them to go to lunch together. Of course Kyle would be there. It wasn’t like Cartman could avoid him forever. 

He sighed, and went over to the group. Kyle wouldn’t look at him. Stan gave Kyle a funny look but seemed to shrug it off and the two of them started talking about the new season of Voltron and walked ahead while Kenny hung back to talk to Cartman. 

“Hey dude,” Kenny said. “What’s up with your boyfriend?” 

“Kyle is not my boyfriend.” 

“I didn’t even have to name who I was talking about though, did I?” 

“Look don’t let them overhear,” Cartman nodded at Stan and Kyle a little way in front of them. 

“Oh, come on I’m just messing with you,” Kenny said, elbowing Cartman. 

Normally, Kenny’s jabs would be nothing, but today Cartman glared at him and walked ahead by himself, ignoring Kenny’s exasperated sigh. 

He was looking around the cafeteria, trying to figure out who the hell had sent those anonymous Tumblr messages. Had the person even really known him or were they just messing with him? They’d said they used to be close but didn’t talk anymore. He wracked his brain but couldn’t think of anyone that could really apply to. Had he ever really been close with anyone other than Kenny, Stan, Kyle and his mom? 

It was a very awkward lunch. Normally, if Kyle and Cartman were fighting they would be, well, fighting. Neither were afraid of hurling insults or yelling or even physically attacking each other. But for some reason this time, they just didn’t talk to each other at all. That was somehow worse. That was somehow a lot worse and Cartman ended up eating his lunch plus getting several dollars worth of extra snacks from the vending machine so he could stuff his anxiety with food. 

After lunch, Cartman went back to the vending machine and dug through his pockets for more change. Nothing. Shit. Now how was he supposed to handle the massive anxiety attack he felt coming on? 

He kept looking around and he was sure he looked totally insane, but he needed to figure out who the fuck had sent those asks on Tumblr. Whoever it was, he was going to kick their ass. Was anyone looking at him funny? Okay, so, everyone who looked his way was kinda looking at him funny but that was probably because he was standing by the vending machines looking around the cafeteria like he wanted to murder someone and shaking.

Craig and Tweek were at the vending machine next to the one Cartman was standing at, and Craig whispered something in Tweek’s ear while looking at Cartman. Bebe and Heidi were at a table nearby, sitting close and talking quietly. Bebe giggled. Was she laughing at him? At another table, Cartman spotted Butters and Dougie talking, and he could’ve sworn he saw Butters nod in his direction while saying something to Dougie. 

“Hello? Earth to Cartman?” 

He looked up to see Kyle standing next to him waving a hand in front of his face. How long had he been standing there? Stupid asshole ginger with his curly hair and his stupid hat. Cartman wanted to hit him. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“You ok?” 

“I thought I told you to fuck off.” 

“Okay,” Kyle said. “We’re talking. Now. Follow me.” He grabbed Cartman’s elbow and dragged him out of the cafeteria. 

Cartman tried to tug away. “Leave me alone Kyle.” 

“No way fat boy, we’re talking,” Kyle led him to an empty classroom. 

At first Cartman resisted, but once they were out of the cafeteria, he let Kyle lead the way. Maybe part of him liked Kyle pushing him to talk. No one ever cared enough to do that. 

“Sit,” Kyle ordered once they were in the abandoned classroom. He closed the door behind them with a slam that made Cartman worry a teacher or janitor would come running. 

“Jesus Christ Kyle you’re not the boss of me,” Cartman said. 

But he sat down on the floor where Kyle was pointing. 

Kyle sat down next to him. They just sat there for a good thirty seconds or more before Catman finally turned on Kyle. 

“Dude what the fuck?” he asked. “You dragged me to an empty to classroom so we could stare into space? What do you want from me?” 

Kyle looked thrown off for a second, like he didn’t have an answer to that last question. He pulled himself together fast though. 

“I could tell you were freaking out back there. What’s going on?” 

Cartman sighed and stared intently at the algebra problem on the whiteboard. Something occurred to him. What if it had been Kyle who sent the asks to his inbox? That would be a very Kyle thing to do. Just to mess with him probably. 

Cartman had an idea of how calm his anxiety and it wasn’t a great one. Honestly, he could just tell Kyle. He could just get it out of the way and then it wouldn’t be a secret. But Kyle hated him. Right? And even if he didn’t hate him right now, it was only a matter of time until they were at each other’s throats again…wasn’t it? Could he trust Kyle to keep something like this to himself? Would Kyle just use this against him the next time the two got into a fight? 

“Cartman…” Kyle said. He put a hand on Cartman’s shoulder and Cartman stiffened. This wasn’t helping. 

“It’s not important,” Cartman said. 

“Clearly, you were upset back there.” 

“So? Since when do you care if I’m upset?” 

“Look asshole, I care okay?” Kyle said. “And I’m not leaving you alone til you tell me what the hell is going on with you.” 

“Whatever, I’m leaving,” Cartman said. 

“What about next bell?” 

“I’m already late anyway,” Cartman said. “Who gives a shit?” He got up and stormed off. 

He wasn’t going to just sit in that stupid classroom all day. He wasn’t going to let Kyle get into his head. Kyle didn’t give a fuck about him and never had and if he wanted to know what was going on, it was to use it against him. 

He walked out a side door of the school, and glared when he turned around to see Kyle following him. 

This stupid Jew – no, he wasn’t doing that anymore – this stupid self-righteous headass motherfucker – okay, better – didn’t quit, did he? 

It was getting close to the end of September, and the cool mountain air made Cartman wrap his arms around himself as he stomped across the playground and started walking away from the school. 

He assumed Kyle would give up and go back to school at some point, but when he was about a block from school it became clear that Kyle wasn’t giving up. 

He turned around, glaring. 

“Leave me alone, Kyle.” 

“No.” 

“What is your problem dude?” Cartman yelled. 

“I’m trying-”

“Trying to what? Figure out my deepest darkest secrets like we’re in the fifth grade?” 

“No!” 

“Trying to get into my head so you have something really great to throw at me next time I piss you off?” 

“No, you stupid dumbass, trying to be your friend!” 

“We’re not friends, Kyle,” Cartman said coldly. “We never have been.” 

“Fuck that,” Kyle said. “Yes, we have and we still are. You can lie to yourself all you want but I know you too well for that. Don’t bullshit me. We’re friends.” 

“Fine,” Cartman said. “We’re friends! So, what do you want from me?” 

“Who were you looking for in the cafeteria?” 

“No one.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

Cartman started walking again, and Kyle jogged to keep up with him. Kyle had a good couple of inches on Cartman plus he was on the basketball team so Cartman trying to out-speed-walk him didn’t exactly work. 

They ended up at Sizzlers, in a booth near the window. Cartman ordered a burger and Kyle just got a shake. Cartman considered telling Kyle he just wanted to be left alone but in all honesty, he didn’t hate the company. As annoying as Kyle was it was kind of nice to have someone giving him shit and trying to figure out what was going on with him. Not like he had anyone else doing that. 

“Dude we just had lunch,” Kyle said. 

“Whatever,” Cartman said. 

“Do you want to die of a heart attack at seventeen?” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Who were you looking for in the cafeteria?” 

Cartman groaned. Was it possible Kyle actually gave a shit and didn’t just want to know because he wanted the latest gossip? 

Cartman thought about what his therapist had taught him about irrational thoughts. They’d made this chart, and one side they would write his automatic thoughts. ‘Kyle is trying to find out my secrets to fuck with me because he doesn’t actually care because no one does.’ Next to that was a column for the feelings that went with those thoughts. ‘Worthless, hopeless, alone.’ Next to that column they would write the rational thoughts to replace the automatic thoughts with. ‘Kyle is my friend. He might actually care.’ 

Cartman sighed. Should he do this? God, was he doing this? With no planning, and no preparation? Fuck it. In the past, he’d been meticulous, planned everything, up to and including a plot to feed a kid - who turned out to be his brother - his own parents. 

He’d been obsessed with always one-upping everyone. His plans had often worked the way he intended, but Cartman had learned that too often they hadn’t worked in his favor in the end. Because even when he managed to fuck with someone else often in a dark and violent way, he got just as hurt as the person he was fucking with. Maybe even more hurt. 

He’d never had to plan for something like this, where the best-case scenario was no one getting hurt. Maybe it was best he didn’t get the chance to plan this. Maybe if he did, he’d just fuck it up. Of course, there was a chance he’d just fuck it up anyway. 

He ignored Kyle, opening his phone and playing around to avoid making eye contact. 

He could feel Kyle staring him down, and took a sip from his drink without taking his eyes off his phone. He was going to do this. He was really going to do this, he just had to get his mind together for a second, and think. He couldn’t let Kyle know he was getting ready to tell him something important, though. He had to act distracted, like he didn’t give a shit. He clicked the Tumblr app, ready to mindlessly scroll for a few seconds, and almost spit out his drink when he looked at his notifications. There was another anonymous message. 

‘are you and kyle a couple?’ 

“Cartman!” Kyle snapped his fingers in front of Cartman’s face, and Cartman clicked off his phone and looked up. 

Despite the phone screen being darkened and Kyle’s face across the table, Cartman couldn’t focus on anything but the anonymous message. Were he and Kyle a couple? What? Who would think that? Who would send something like that? Was someone just messing with him? Kenny? No. Kenny wouldn’t do that. Stan? No way, Stan was too caught up in the straighty jock life. He wouldn’t even think to send something like that. Who would want to fuck with him, just for fun? Now that was a loaded question. Half the town came to mind. 

This stupid ask changed everything. 

He couldn’t do this. 

“What?” he snapped at Kyle, who was still glaring at him. 

“Who were you looking for in the cafeteria fat ass?” 

Cartman felt sick. He couldn’t tell Kyle now, not if people were gossiping about them being a couple. Kyle would think he’d started spreading that rumor on purpose, just like he had in fourth grade. And could he blame Kyle if he did think that? Could he blame Kyle if Kyle told him to fuck off and that they couldn’t be friends at all anymore? 

This past month they had just started getting along, like really getting along, as in having sleepovers and drinking vodka Mt. Dews and playing Xbox and skipping class together. 

Copying that test and getting them Saturday detentions was possibly the best thing Cartman had ever done for their frenemy-ship. He was almost sad there was only one detention left. He wondered, if he could keep the whole ‘gay’ thing a secret, if he and Kyle would keep hanging out and getting closer after the last detention. October was filled with possibilities, like haunted houses, and Halloween parties, and watching scary movies cuddled up on the couch together. 

Even though Kenny and Cartman had gotten pretty close during high school and could talk about how shitty their parents were and how much it sucked to be in the closet, Cartman still felt like there was a wall up between him and his friends, a wall he had no idea how to tear down. Yet recently, there was something about the way Kyle let him play on his Spotify account and add songs to his playlists, and the way Kyle let him share the bed with him that night, and the way Kyle stood up to his mom so Cartman could come over. There was something about the way he felt when it was just him and Kyle alone this past month that made him decide he couldn’t risk losing this – whatever ‘this’ was. 

“You know what Kyle?” 

“What?” 

“I don’t need you and your stupid, pushy Jew nose in my business! I don’t have to tell you anything, so just drop it.” 

Kyle’s face went cold. Cartman wanted to take it back. He hadn’t meant to go back to his old habit of insulting Kyle’s religion. He’d just meant to snap at Kyle and get him to drop the subject, and maybe get him a little riled up so they could exchange insults. He’d said it on impulse and he hadn’t meant to, but that didn’t matter. He wanted to tell Kyle that he didn’t mean it. He wanted to tell Kyle the truth about what was going on with him and have Kyle tell him that it would be fine. He was shaking and he kept thinking about the night he and Kyle had fallen asleep on the couch together and wished he could go back to that, and stay in that night forever.

“Wow, so you not calling me a Jew lasted about two seconds, huh? You know something Cartman, I was an idiot to think you’d changed. I was an idiot to think you’d ever change. Maybe you were right before, and we’re not friends. You’ve always been an asshole to me and here I am, feeling bad for you because of your mom and stuff so I try to be nice and-”

“Fuck you Kyle, at least my mom isn’t a self-righteous bitch like yours! She does whatever she needs to, because she loves me! You wouldn’t know what it’s like because your parents have it easy.” 

“Right, sure, my parents have it easy and your mom is doing her best,” Kyle’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Keep telling yourself that, fat ass! I totally see how giving you endless junk food and spoiling you with toys as a kid instead of actually ever giving a shit about you equals loving you. Yeah, I’m sure her fucking drugging you when you were nine was clearly something she totally needed to do! I’m so tired of you sticking up for her when she’s been shitty to you your entire life, Cartman! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Cartman clenched his fists. People in the restaurant were starting to stare. 

“Shut up,” he said. He wanted to yell it, but it came out really quiet. He was digging his nails into his palms, and trying hard to focus on the pain and stay calm but he could feel the tears welling up. No way was he letting Kyle see him cry. 

“You know what?” Kyle said. “No! I try to so hard to be your friend and help you and you make it so fucking hard. I’m tired of you talking shit about my family, and calling us Jews like it’s an insult when it’s my faith and you know I take it seriously. Maybe I’ve been a friend to you, but you sure as hell haven’t been a friend to me and I think that’s where I got it wrong. And if you say another word about my mom I swear to god-”

“Hey,” Cartman stood up on the bench. Everyone in Sizzlers was now staring at them and the waitress was frozen halfway across the restaurant. Her eyes were filled with a familiar fear that Cartman had fed off when he was younger. He found that he could still feed off it. There was something about captivating a room that never got old. “Hey everyone? Guess what? Kyle’s mom, Sheila Broflovski is a big, fat, stupid, BITCH!” 

“What the hell is your problem?” Kyle asked, standing up and backing away from the table. 

Cartman jumped down from the bench and shoved Kyle. “My problem is you, asshole.” 

“Fine, you know what?” Kyle yelled, shoving him back. 

The entire restaurant was watching in silent fear. 

When Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski got pissed, they had a way of getting people’s attention. But they hadn’t had a fight like this in years. Not in public, and not really at all. Cartman’s heart was pounding. The adrenaline felt addictively good, and seeing Kyle’s reddened face made him want to step forward and grab Kyle and – he couldn’t finish that thought. That thought led in a dangerous direction. Instead, he answered Kyle. 

“What, Kyle?” he asked, stepping forward so that their faces were inches apart. He could feel the heat radiating between them. It was a weird electricity that Cartman had once tried to create at any cost, before he’d learned in therapy that he should treat people better, that he shouldn’t start fights for attention. But damn, did the electricity feel good. 

“I’m done.” 

“WHAT?” Cartman tried to hide the shock in his voice. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“I’m done trying with you! Fuck you! I’m not taking it anymore.” 

Kyle turned and left, just as two security guards came from the back and started marching towards them. One tried to grab Kyle’s arm, but he shoved the guard away, giving zero fucks. 

“I’m leaving!” Kyle snapped at the security guard. God, Kyle was so hot when he was mad. No one, not even authority figures could fuck with Kyle Broflovski when he got pissed off. He breezed past the security guard and out the door like it was nothing. 

Cartman felt the other guard grabbing his arm. Unlike Kyle, he didn’t shove the guy off. He just allowed himself to be led out of the diner. 

All he could think as he was being told not to come back to Sizzlers was that Kyle couldn’t possibly be done. There was no way. That wasn’t an option. It was impossible, right? How many times had Kyle said he was done and not meant it? 

Yet, there had been something so serious about the way he said it this time. 

As the security-guard roughly shoved Cartman away and marched back into the restaurant and Cartman walked off down the street in the opposite direction from Kyle, it hit him. 

That electricity he’d felt back there had a reason, and he finally understood it. He’d fed off it as a kid for all the wrong reasons but now he got it. He’d realized a long time ago that he couldn’t live without Kyle Broflovski, but now he knew why. Maybe he’d known why for a long time, but hadn’t wanted to admit it. He still didn’t want to admit it. 

He was hopelessly, totally, fucked in love with that stupid ginger asshole. Goddammit. He was so fucking screwed. 

He couldn’t be in love with Kyle, right? He hated Kyle. But hate and love were confusing and messy in Eric’s life, and the electricity he’d felt when Kyle shoved him hadn’t felt like hate at all. 

It made sense, in a sick way. He knew he couldn’t be without Kyle, not really. He’d always known his life would be empty when Kyle left South Park, and that’s why he felt more and more hopeless as senior year approached. 

He’d saved Kyle’s life time and time again when they were kids despite claiming to hate him, and Kyle had done the same for him. Hell, Kyle was pretty much the only one who’d done the same for him. No one else really gave a shit. Cartman hated to admit it, and he’d never in a million years admit it to Kyle, but his mom had probably cared the least. Or maybe she cared. Cartman decided she had to care, but maybe part of him knew he had to decide that because the alternative made him want to throw himself out a window. She cared, but she didn’t know how to show it. He kind of got it. Clearly, he wasn’t an expert on showing he cared either, if the scene he’d caused back there had been any indication. 

He loved the way Kyle wasn’t afraid to tell him off and saying shit like it was. No one else, not his mom or his other friends or any teacher, could tell him off and call him on his shit like Kyle could. Even Kenny wouldn’t have said that stuff about his mom back there. And he was pretty sure no one in the world but Kyle would’ve followed him out of school earlier. He was pretty sure no one in the world had ever care about him so endlessly despite his constant fucked up antics. 

But now he’d fucked it up, just like he always did, and he was afraid there was no going back. There’d been something so final about the way Kyle said he was done back there, and that was terrifying. Still, since when had anything ever been final between Kyle and Cartman?


	9. planning for the future

“KYLE.” 

“I know, right? What an asshole?” Kyle was laying on Stan’s bed while Stan sat on his computer chair, legs on the bed, playing World of Warcraft. “Now I can’t even go back to Sizzlers! And that’s like, our favorite place to go as a group. I’m so tired of his bullshit. I mean, here I am, trying to be a good friend, and like, invite him over, ask him what’s going on, look out for him-”

“KYLE!” Stan stood up, throwing his hands in the air. His character had just reappeared in the graveyard in the game. 

Kyle stared. “What?” 

“You’ve been talking about this all week! It’s Friday night! Can’t we do something fun, or like, talk about something else?” 

“I haven’t been talking about it all week. It’s just, super annoying and I’m really over it, you know?” 

“If you’re so over it, why don’t we talk about something else?” Stan said. 

“Like what?”

“Well, Wendy is having that breast cancer benefit I told you about tomorrow night. It’s going to be at her house, but her parents are going to Denver for a date night so it’ll just be kids. Five-dollar entrance fee, but Token’s parents gave him a credit card and he went all out with decorations and stuff to help her out. There’s gonna be cocktails because Kenny used his fake ID, and Bebe is bartending.” 

“So?” 

“So, are you coming?” 

“I don’t know, dude.” 

“Why not?” 

“I mean, I still have to write that essay for Garrison and-”

“DUDE. You’ve had all week to write the essay. Knowing you, you finished it Monday.” 

“Actually, I haven’t even started.” 

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Kyle Broflovski?” 

“I don’t know Stan, I’ve just been busy, okay?” 

“Busy sitting around thinking about how much you hate Cartman. I know. This has been going on since pre-school, Kyle. I thought you guys were past it.” 

“I’ll get past it when he quits taking me for granted and insulting me when all I try to do is be nice. Sure, he doesn’t like being my charity project or whatever, but it’s not even like that and besides-”

Stan interrupted before Kyle could finish his sentence. “Maybe he should accept a little charity since his mom is a whore and he doesn’t have anyone else.” Stan glared at Kyle. “I know Kyle, because I’m also friends with Cartman, and also you’ve said the same sentence at least fifty times this week. If you’re really done with him, be done and move on. Isn’t that the idea of being done with someone?” 

“Ugh, I have to go,” Kyle said. “You’re being an asshole.” 

He got up and walked to the door, half expecting Stan to try to talk him into sticking around. But, when he looked back Stan wasn’t even looking at him, he was focused on digging through his drawer. He pulled out a flask, and Kyle rolled his eyes, storming out of the room. 

Sharon Marsh gave him a questioning look, but Kyle just left. He walked back in the direction of his house with his hands in his pockets. It was still early in the evening on a Friday night and he’d now successfully started a very pointless argument with his best friend. 

Kyle didn’t feel like going home and explaining to his mom why he was home so early, so he found himself wandering towards the little park near his house. He ended up sitting on a bench in the park, staring at nothing, thinking. In the morning, he had his final Saturday detention with Cartman. 

September was coming to a close, and normally, Kyle looked forward to October despite the fact that he was starting to outgrow some of his old traditions, like dressing up and trick or treating. Still, there were haunted houses, hayrides, and even parties. He should be excited. 

Instead he just thought about how boring things would be without expending the energy to stop any of Cartman’s nasty plans. 

Was he really done?

That was the question he kept asking himself, but Stan had kind of answered it for him, hadn’t he? He couldn’t even stop talking about Cartman for a week. Maybe Stan was right and he needed to focus on something else. Maybe Wendy’s party wasn’t such a bad idea. Kyle was deep in his thoughts and didn’t notice at first that he wasn’t alone in the darkened park. 

“What’s up Broflovski?” 

Kyle looked up to see a familiar, bright orange hoodie-wearing figure walking toward him. 

“Hey Kenny.” 

Kenny sat down on the park bench next to Kyle. He was on his phone, typing something on Snapchat that included a lot of tongue emojis and a couple unpeeled banana emojis. Kyle didn’t want to know. 

“What are you doing here?” Kenny asked. 

“Not much,” Kyle said. “Stan’s just sitting in his room drinking or whatever, and I was bored. I’m just so freaking tired of everyone giving me shit and not appreciating me. First Cartman and now Stan.” 

“Really? Did Cartman do something to piss you off?” Kenny asked. 

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “The asshole wouldn’t know how to treat someone decently if his life depended on it. He’s so annoy-”

“DUDE,” Kenny said, turning off his phone and glaring at Kyle. “Didn’t you used to play on a Sarcastaball team? Did you really think I was seriously asking?” 

“Well-”

“Kyle. You haven’t talked about anything else all week. Between you and Cartman I swear to God it’s like I’ll never stop hearing about that stupid fight at Sizzlers. You both obviously miss each other, so just make up when you go to your detention tomorrow.” 

“What? I don’t miss him!” Then the other part of what Kenny had said hit him. “Wait. Hold on, Cartman was talking about this too? What did he say?” 

“That you’re just so adorable when you’re angry and you have the prettiest eyes, and your ginger curls are so cute and you shouldn’t be embarrassed of them and hide them behind that silly hat.” 

“WHAT?” 

Kenny rolled his eyes. 

“Oh. You’re kidding again.” 

“Seriously, Kyle. Just tell Cartman you’re willing to give him another chance and he’ll be kissing your ass.” 

“Have you met Cartman?” 

“Yeah,” Kenny said, standing up from the bench. “I think I might even know him a little better than you do.” 

Kenny started walking again and Kyle stared after him, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. Kenny was such a weird guy. He was always so mysterious. How could Kenny know Cartman better than Kyle? Were Kenny and Cartman even that close? 

If Kyle were honest with himself, he was pretty sure he knew Cartman better than anyone. Sure, he also fought with Cartman more than anyone. But that was because Cartman needed that. It wasn’t like his mom was ever going to call him on his shit. And their other friends didn’t really care enough, because, well, Cartman was an asshole and it wasn’t like he’d do the same for any of them. 

So why did Kyle keep on trying? Why the fuck did he care so much? 

Maybe it was because Cartman often did do the same for Kyle, even if Kyle hated admitting it. 

How many times has Cartman ended up saving Kyle’s life? At least as many times as Kyle had saved his. Sure, they almost killed each other on a weekly basis, but when it came down to it they were ready to save each other’s lives. If that wasn’t a ride or die relationship, Kyle didn’t know what was. Of course, it was also confusing because they hated each other. Most of the time. Except when they were playing video games, or skipping rocks. 

Or cuddling on the couch and talking about their futures. 

So why the hell would Kenny think he knew Cartman better than Kyle did? 

Kyle thought about this question, and his confusing and upsetting history with Cartman, all the way home. It was a short walk, but Kyle took his time, walking slow and stopping to play on his phone every few minutes. He had a lot to think about. And besides, he didn’t want to face his mom’s questions about not staying at Stan’s longer. She always knew when something was wrong, and the last thing Kyle wanted was to tell her about his stupid argument with his best friend. 

He was lucky his parents were in bed by the time he got home, but Ike was still awake, watching Terrance and Phillip and eating popcorn. 

“Oh, hey Ike.”

“What are you doing home? It’s only like,” he looked at his phone, “nine.” 

Kyle sighed, sitting down on the sofa next to his little brother and grabbing a handful of popcorn, ignoring Ike when he tried to swat him away. As much as Kyle loved his mom, sometimes her questions could get exhaustive. With Ike though, it was somehow different. Kyle didn’t mind telling his little brother what was going on. 

“I got into a stupid argument with Stan.” 

“Because he was tired of hearing you talk shit about Cartman?” 

“What?” 

“Kyle, no offense but you’re driving everyone crazy.” 

Kyle buried his face in his knees for a minute, groaning, before sitting up and grabbing more popcorn. 

“He just really drives me crazy, okay?” 

“I know he does,” Ike said, patting Kyle on the shoulder. 

“I’m just so tired of his shit, ya know?” 

“Right,” Ike said. 

“I don’t want him back in my life. Avoiding him for a week has been the best decision ever.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“I don’t miss him,” Kyle said, side-eyeing Ike and thinking about what Kenny had said in the park. 

“I know.” 

“He’s super annoying and when I see him tomorrow even if he apologizes, I’m telling him I’m still done.” 

“Ok.” 

“I mean, maybe if he apologized and he really, really meant it I would consider forgiving him.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“But this would be his last chance.” 

“Of course it would.” 

They watched Terrance and Philip for a while and then Kyle went to bed as he had to get up early for his detention the next morning. It only occurred to him after he was in bed and staring at the ceiling trying not to think about Eric Cartman that Ike had most likely been being sarcastic with his responses. 

The next morning, two blocks away, Eric Cartman was trying not to think about Kyle Broflovski and failing just as badly as Kyle was failing to not think about him. 

Cartman hadn’t slept. He’d gotten another anonymous message on Tumblr: ‘did you and Kyle break up?’ He’d posted the question with no comment. He was exhausted and beyond over it. 

Who the hell did Kyle think he was? Sometimes he treated Cartman like he was still the same nasty little nine-year-old that had been responsible for so much suffering and so many deaths. But he wasn’t that person anymore and if he wasn’t perfect, well neither was Kyle. At least he was trying to get better. 

He walked to the bus stop, not expecting to see Kyle there. He was sure Kyle would take his parents car as usual. So, when he saw Kyle wearing his stupid green hat and standing with his hands in his pockets, there was a sinking sensation in his stomach. Of course, he’d seen him at school, but they’d avoided each other like the plague. Cartman had eaten lunch with Butters and Dougie all week, and lucky for him they were nice enough not to ask any questions. They just accepted him sitting with them like it was normal. Which really wasn’t as great as he would’ve thought. He felt like shit about the things he’d put Butters through when they were kids, and he couldn’t believe that Butters was still as nice to him as he was. 

“Hey Kyle.” 

“Hey.” 

“You’re not taking your parents’ car?” 

“My parents needed it today.” 

“Oh.” 

There was an awkward silence between them. Neither of them said a word to each other and when the bus got there, Kyle sat towards the front and Cartman sat in the back row. He wanted to go up and tell Kyle he was sorry and that he wanted to be friends again, but he was also tired of always being the one to apologize. 

For their last day of detention, they were assigned to clean the kindergarten classroom which at first Cartman thought would be easier than cleaning the bathrooms or the cafeterias, but when he walked in he saw that he was dead wrong. The walls were plastered in either chocolate or shit, the tables were turned over and old applesauce and yogurt containers were spilled all over the floor. What looked like dry blood covered several of the overturned chairs. 

“The kindergarten class can get a little rowdy sometimes,” Mr. Garrison said, before laughing to himself and walking away towards his own classroom, probably to watch porn while pretending to grade essays. 

“What a creep,” Kyle muttered. It was the first time he’d spoken to Cartman since their fight, and Cartman wasn’t even sure if the comment was directed at him or at the empty room. 

“Yeah,” he said with a slight laugh that came out way too nervous. He felt like kicking himself. 

There was an awkward pause that probably lasted about thirty seconds but felt like an eternity. 

“Kyle, look, about Sizzlers-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Kyle snapped, glaring. 

Cartman’s stomach turned over. He hated it when Kyle looked at him like that. But he also loved it. He could feel that spark of electricity again and every muscle in his body tensed. 

“I was an asshole. I’m sorry.” Wow his therapist would probably give him a medal when she heard about this. 

“Well. Thank you for saying that. But you can’t expect to just apologize every time you fuck up and I’ll forgive you. I was serious before. I’m tired of your shit, Eric.” 

Kyle rarely called him Eric, usually either if he was especially pissed or feeling unusually affectionate. 

“Kyle, I’m really trying here. I’m not the same kid that ripped on your for being Jewish and called your mom a bitch in middle school you know.” 

“Then prove it.” 

“How am I supposed to do that? I’m doing my best here.” 

“Well if you’re really doing your best, why the hell do you even care so much what I think? Shouldn’t it be enough to just be a better person than you were? We don’t get along and we never have so why don’t we just accept it and stay away from each other?” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Yeah, I do. I’m over it. Why do you even care? Don’t you hate me?” 

“No! I don’t hate you at all Kyle! I seriously care about you a lot.” He was being painfully honest right now and he hoped Kyle appreciated that, but judging by the look on Kyle’s face, he did not. 

“Well you sure do a great job of showing it! I’ll never understand you, and I’m done trying. Why do you want me in your life so bad anyway?” 

“I-” Cartman fumbled. He knew why, but he couldn’t say that. “I don’t know. I just figure after all we’ve been through together at this point that I…I don’t know Kyle, okay? You’re like the only person who ever gave a shit about me! Even if we fight a lot, at least you actually fucking care.” 

He was shaking now, and he could feel how hot his skin was, he was sure that his cheeks were bright red. 

“Well, guess what fat ass? I’m tired of giving a shit! I try to give you chance after chance and it gets fucking exhausting!” Kyle’s face was red and his fists were balled and as much as Cartman loved seeing Kyle pissed like this, Kyle’s words also stung badly. 

“I know!” Cartman said. “Trust me, I know. And I do appreciate it Kyle, and I don’t know what I’d do without you, okay?” 

“Then fucking act like it!” 

“I’m trying, okay? Can’t you fucking tell?” 

“Not really. Maybe you should just stop trying.” 

“Fine!” Cartman snapped. “Maybe I will.” 

He started cleaning and Kyle started working on the other side of the room. They got the kindergarten classroom clean faster than they had any of their other cleaning assignments because neither looked at or talked to the other so there was no bickering or goofing around to slow them down. Despite the end of September still being pretty warm in Colorado, the classroom felt icy. 

That was it then, wasn’t it? Cartman’s last hope of actually trying to impress the one person whose opinion mattered to him was over. He could tell Kyle was serious this time. 

After Garrison dismissed them, instead of taking the bus with Kyle, Cartman walked towards the local Kum and Go. 

He walked inside and up to the counter where a balding guy with burns on his face and almost no teeth was playing a video game with lots of shooting sounds on his phone. 

“What can I help you with?” the guy said, without looking up from his video game. 

“I’d like to put in an application,” Cartman said. 

Might as well start early on his future. Not like anyone but Kyle had ever suggested the idea of him furthering his education or trying to do anything other than follow his mom’s footsteps anyway. If Kyle was done with him, he was done giving a shit. Why bother trying if no one cared anyway?


	10. a shitty place to sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!!! 
> 
> Sorry for taking a million years to update I work and go to school and all that jazz yadda yadda BUT I am still extremely invested in this story and have a lot of ideas for it so I am not giving up. Thanks so so so much to those of you have been waiting so patiently! 
> 
> Quick recap: Kyle and Cartman got in a huge fight and Cartman decided to quit going to school and work at the local Kum & Go and has basically resigned to taking after his mom's lifestyle and Kyle is salty and doesn't know how to show it, but he still cares 
> 
> Trigger warning in this chapter for sexual violence-related PTSD and drug use

“Dude, Stan and Kyle have been asking about you.” 

“Yeah right.” 

“They really have,” Kenny insisted. He took a long hit from the joint they were passing back and forth and then offered it to Cartman, who shook his head, leaning back against a dirty pillow in Kenny’s bed. 

“I don’t get it, dude,” Kenny said. “A week ago, you were obsessed with making things right with Kyle.” 

“Yeah, I told you, he’s done with me.” It was a week into October and normally the boys would be knee deep in detention slips and planning their next big prank against Garrison or Officer Barbrady. 

“Whatever dude, how many times have you and Kyle claimed to be done with each other? He asked about you every day this week.” 

“Did you tell him I was working?” 

“No dude, tell him yourself.”   
“What’s your problem, Kenny?” 

“My problem is that you Stan and Kyle are my best friends and I’m tired of you always fucking things up,” Kenny snapped. 

Cartman stared, taken aback. He was used to Kenny giving him shit, but he wasn’t so used to Kenny being actually pissed off at him. 

“Look,” Kenny said. “I have enough to deal with at home. I can’t always play your mom Cartman. Fix your own fucking problems for once. I’ve told you, Stan and Kyle are worried they’re just too straight and emotionally repressed to know how to show it. Either you go talk to Kyle and work out whatever is going on or,” he stopped himself, shaking his head. “No, actually, you know what? That’s your only option. You two have known each other since pre-school. Figure it out.” 

“You know what dude, you’re right,” Cartman said. Kenny looked surprised for a second, and Cartman almost stopped there, but he was shaking at Kenny’s comment that he fucked everything up. It was true. Maybe the group was better without him. “You’re not my mom. So just fuck off.” 

He stood up and walked over to the window. 

“Eric, wait-” Kenny started, but Cartman was already halfway out the window. 

He’d been climbing in and out of Kenny’s window for years, and he was all too familiar with the little ally that led back to his house. It was dark and well past midnight but that didn’t matter. Not like Liane would notice. He didn’t have to be at work until ten am the next morning so he could sleep in a little. 

Working at the Kum and Go was exactly as shitty as Cartman had always assumed it would be. It was boring, it was easy, and it was depressing. He spent the day selling beers and packs of smokes to increasingly drunk or strung out junkies and listening to the same three Luke Bryant songs on repeat. It was hell. 

But what else was he going to do? Waste his time at school? Continue to exhaust himself trying to learn shit he’d never use again just to get through high school even knowing that college probably wouldn’t be an option? 

He kicked a half-empty bottle across the ally and it slammed into the wall and shattered. A man with dirt on his face and torn clothes poked his head out from behind a trash can, alerted by the sound of breaking glass. 

“What are you doing here, kid?” he asked in a raspy voice. Half of his face had been burned and he was squinting from a swollen eye. Most of his teeth were missing. 

Cartman was well-aware of the fact that he should probably be freaked out, or at least on edge. He felt nothing. He was used to creepy crackhead men. The fact that it was past midnight and he was in an alley in the bad part of town didn’t even phase him. 

“Fuck off homeless scum,” Cartman muttered. He kept walking. 

“HEY!” the man yelled. 

Cartman turned around. He was halfway toward the main streets of South Park. He evaluated the man, who hadn’t stood up yet. He could outrun the guy and get to the main road no problem. He didn’t think there would be any reason to, though. 

When Cartman was a kid, he’d convinced himself that he was ‘middle class.’ He’d believed that he was privileged, maybe because he got everything he asked for. His mom had always bought him every new toy, every new video game, everything he ever asked for. Now he was older though, and he understood that he was closer to being in the same class as the creepy dude sleeping in an alley than with any of his classmates at school. Maybe he’d always understood that, but hadn’t been able to acknowledge it as a kid, before therapy. After all, he’d always had a certain kind of crowd present in his house. 

“What do you want asshole?” Cartman snapped. 

“I know you,” the guy said. “You’re Liane’s kid.” 

Cartman’s stomach turned over. He felt sick. Of course, the gross dude in the alley sleeping behind a garbage can fucking knew his mom. He remembered all the public bathroom stalls he’d written her number on, at her request. He remembered all the strange men who had come to his room as a kid and-

No. No, he told himself firmly. He wasn’t going to think about that, not now, not ever. 

He wasn’t going to think about his childhood ‘uncles,’ or the many ‘friends,’ his mom had sent to his darkened room over the years. He wasn’t going to think about the unwelcome feeling of rough, scaly hands against his skin, or the sick smell of cigarette breath. His heart rate was accelerating. God, he wished he could be anyone else, with any other memories. 

“What’s the matter kid?” the man asked. “Can’t fucking talk?” 

“I can talk,” Cartman said. He meant to say it in a firm and commanding voice, but it came out small and high. 

“Come here,” the man said. 

“No way dude,” Cartman said and turned to walk away. 

“Or don’t!” the man called after him. “I was just gonna offer you a hit!” he held up a dirty glass pipe. “Just trying to be nice to Liane Cartman’s kid. Jesus Christ.” 

“Oh…” Cartman said. He hesitated. He wasn’t sure what made him hesitate, but he did. 

Maybe it was the idea of taking a hit of anything that would help him escape his current reality, or a desire to understand the type of man his mom hung around, or maybe he was just a fucking idiot. 

He walked towards the trash can and the wall and the man grinned through yellow, crooked teeth. The eye on the side of his face that had been burned was pale and huge. It made Cartman’s insides squirm. He had been around the guys his mom knew plenty before. He’d never had a conversation with one of them before though, and he’d definitely never had one of them offer him drugs. 

He sat down, leaning against the brick wall and saw that the guy was sitting on a soggy mattress stained with what might have been shit. 

“Have a seat,” the man offered. 

Cartman hesitated. The ground was hard and cold.

“Okay,” he said. He got up and moved to sit on the mattress next to the man. Once he got situated so that none of the springs were sticking out and poking him, it wasn’t so bad. The smell wasn’t great, but at least it was comfortable. 

“Ever smoked before, kid?” the guy asked. There was something about the way he asked it that made Cartman stare at him. His tone was missing something. 

“No,” he said, honestly. He’d smoked cigarettes and weed before, of course, but he knew that wasn’t what he was being asked. 

“You’re not going to like the taste right away,” the guy said. “And it’s gonna be really intense at first, but just stay with me. You’ll be fine.” 

Cartman realized what the guy’s tone was missing. He didn’t sound hateful, or horny. 

He handed the pipe to Cartman, and Cartman took it. His heart was racing. He felt a sense of determination though, and he wasn’t scared. He couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or an intense desire to escape his own life that made him feel excited, but he decided not to wonder so much about the why. That was never a fun question. 

Instead, he inhaled sharply and immediately shoved the pipe back at the man and coughed, spitting up mucus. He felt sick to his stomach and he leaned forward, clutching his gut. 

The man patted him on the back and Cartman felt more nauseated than ever. He vomited off to the side of the mattress and breathed heavily as he finished being sick. He was already feeling the effects and he didn’t know whether he liked it or not. 

Nothing felt right. His heart was racing so fast it hurt and there was a pounding in his head. He was so fucked. No one fucking cared about him and this was going to be his life except worse. It was going to be worse because not every man he met in an alley would offer him a sip of water, the way this guy was. Some of the guys he was sure to meet if he kept this up were sure to be worse, and have more sinister intentions. 

The man was insisting something, but Cartman couldn’t quite hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat. It took him a bit to realize the man was trying to get him to drink some water. Water. God had his throat always been on fire like this? He couldn’t remember a time when it hadn’t. 

Cartman reached for the water bottle and it seemed to take forever for his hand to reach it. When he finally felt his fist close around the glass bottle it was a huge relief. 

He brought the bottle to his lips and took a huge gulp only to push it away, gagging. It wasn’t water. It was liquor, of some kind. Cartman didn’t recognize the flavor. It was strong though. The alley was spinning before him. His head was spinning. God, he felt so dizzy and he hated it. He just wanted everything to stop spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut, but there were sounds, eerie voices, all around him. He had to open his eyes back up because he needed to know what those sounds were. 

Dark shapes seemed to be moving through the alley at impossible speeds. There were so many people around, Cartman thought. He remembered the alley being deserted. Everyone was moving so fast though, and talking in fast. Why were they all speaking in such hushed voices? It was like they didn’t want Cartman to hear. His mom’s voice was present, and slurred. She sounded worried, but also giggly. 

A familiar voice was speaking. Kyle was speaking. He was yelling Cartman’s name over and over again. 

“ERIC!” Kyle sounded panicked. Cartman wanted to tell him that it was fine, that there was nothing to panic about, that it didn’t matter, this was part of who Cartman was now. He wanted to tell Kyle that he appreciated how hard Kyle had tried for so long, but that he didn’t have to try anymore. 

How would Kyle know where to find him? What would he be doing in an alley on the bad side of South Park so late at night? Wasn’t Kyle the goody two shoes of the group?


	11. don't leave me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: Cartman decided to drop out of school and work at the local Kum and Go and also try crack in an ally because we love angst. 
> 
> Sorry for taking ten years to update but hopefully y'all enjoy this very angsty but also self-indulgent chapter :')

Kyle was sitting on the porch sipping a cup of tea. It was a little past 3am and the sky was gray. October leaves drifted across the street in the breeze. Stan and Kenny were sitting on either side of him. At first, Kyle had been hesitant to take any food or beverages from Liane Cartman, but there was something comforting about the warm mug in his hands. 

Of course, growing up in South Park Colorado it shouldn’t be a huge shock that one of your best friends was found having a bad crack trip with a bum in an alley, especially when that friend’s mom was a crack whore. Still, he couldn’t seem to stop shaking. 

“Do you think-” Stan started to speak. 

“He’ll be fine,” Kenny said. Kyle and Stan both gave Kenny confused looks and Kenny shrugged, pulling the strings of his orange hoodie so that his face was covered. “Barbrady’s picked up Kevin a few times. The dude in the alley is a dealer. He gives kids their first hit for free and gets them hooked.” 

“You never told us Kevin had a drug problem,” Kyle accused, staring at Kenny. 

Kenny loosened the strings around his hoodie and looked at Kyle in a way that made Kyle deeply uncomfortable. He regretted saying anything. “Not like you guys really ask about my family,” he said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement. 

There was an awkward pause and none of the boys would look at each other. Despite having known each other since pre-school and having been through everything from World War III to underwear stealing gnomes with one another, they didn’t talk about life all that often. They played basketball, or video games, or gave each other shit, or came up with plots, or talked about whatever current drama was taking over their lives. 

There were some things, like Liane’s profession - if you could call it that, or Stan’s alcoholism, or Kyle’s shitty dad, or Kenny’s family, that they just didn’t discuss except on rare occasions. 

It was the second time this year that Kyle had realized there were certain elephants in the room when it came to the four of them that maybe needed to be addressed. The first time was when Cartman admitted he didn’t plan on going to college or leaving South Park. Kyle gave Kenny a careful look. Cartman had said he assumed Stan and Kyle would leave South Park, and he and Kenny would be left behind. Kyle wondered if Kenny felt the same way. 

Liane came outside and sat down on the porch next to them. “I just got off the phone with Officer Barbrady,” she said. “Eric won’t be getting in any trouble.” 

She looked at them with tired eyes, and there was a weight to her voice. Kyle wondered what she had offered Barbrady in return for letting her son off the hook for smoking crack. A freebie? Kyle shuddered. 

Liane Cartman’s face was much more lined than Kyle remembered it growing up. He realized that when he first started hanging out with Cartman, she had only been four or five years older than he was now. Her wide blue eyes were so much like her son’s, but less innocent. She had the face of someone who had once been very pretty, but who life hadn’t been very kind to. 

“Eric will be fine,” she said. She didn’t sound worried, but Kyle didn’t trust her. Would she even worry if she thought Eric wouldn’t be fine? 

“Are you sure?” he asked. 

“Of course,” Liane said. “I promise, I’ve…seen this before.” 

“Eric-” Kyle started, but Liane was shaking her head. 

“Not him,” she said. “But I’ve seen…enough people have a bad trip.” 

“Will you call us if anything changes, or if you take him to the hospital?” Stan asked, standing. 

“Of course, Stan,” Liane said. She hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it. 

“Thanks Liane,” Kenny said, also standing. He put a hand on Liane’s arm for a moment. “I’ll uh, be over tomorrow. And text if you need anything.” 

Kyle gave Kenny a confused look. Since when were Liane and Kenny on texting terms? Sure, she had texted all of them at some point, asking where they were, if Eric was with them, etcetera. The way he said it made it seem like he was a closer family friend than Kyle knew though. Kenny wouldn’t meet Kyle’s eyes and Kyle made a mental note not to let this go. There was something Kenny wasn’t telling him. 

“You coming, Kyle?” Stan asked, making his way towards their bikes, which were laying in the yard. 

“I’m going to stay for a bit,” he said. “If that’s alright?” he glanced at Ms. Cartman. He didn’t think she would say no. She just nodded, looking a million miles away. 

“Kyle…” Kenny said, looking at Kyle. “He’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah,” said Kyle. “I’m sure. See you guys.” 

Stan and Kenny walked through the yard together and each mounted their bikes, looking backwards at Kyle in a way that Kyle didn’t like at all. 

“Can I go in and talk to him?” Kyle asked. 

Liane had called Kyle’s phone at around one in the morning when Barbrady picked Eric up. He’d been surprised and confused at first, but she had explained that Kyle seemed to be Eric’s closest friend lately, so she thought he should know. Kyle had called Stan and Kenny immediately, and the three had snuck out and ridden their bikes over to Cartman’s house. 

“I don’t think so, Kyle,” Liane said. “I don’t know that he’d want you to see him like this.” 

Kyle had gone in as soon as the boys got to the house, not even bothering to knock, and found Liane and Barbrady having a serious conversation in the living room while Eric lay on the couch groaning. He had been pale and shivery, and Kyle had immediately asked why they didn’t take him to the hospital. Liane seemed confident that her son would be fine though, and didn’t need a hospital. Kyle had only stopped arguing because he knew if anyone was experienced in dealing with someone on crack, it was Liane Cartman. 

“I want to see him,” Kyle insisted. The fight he’d had with Cartman felt insignificant and like a million years ago. He just wanted to make sure that he was okay. “Please,” he said, meeting Liane’s eyes. Something in his face must have convinced her because she nodded, standing up. 

Kyle sat down his cup of tea, and followed Liane into the living room. He hadn’t realized how cold it was outside until he realized it wasn’t any warmer inside. He shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. The breeze was gone, but it was almost colder in the house despite this. 

He hadn’t looked around when he’d come in the first time, because he’d been too focused on seeing Eric, making sure that he was okay. When he’d gotten the call from Liane he’d started putting on his hat and coat before she was even done explaining the situation. 

Now though, as he sat down on the floor next to the sofa where Eric was still shivering and hugging himself, cold sweat running down his pale face, he realized how empty the house was. Almost all the furniture was gone. 

The realization that he didn’t know when he’d last been over to Cartman’s house hit him. He hadn’t noticed it, not really at the time, but looking back the four had spent less and less time at Cartman’s house over the years. Kyle hadn’t ever questioned why, but now he thought he understood. The big flat screen TV he remembered watching horror movies on in sixth grade was gone, replaced with a tiny box shaped TV and Kyle noticed the Xbox the boys had played on almost daily in eighth and ninth grade was also gone. 

“Hey Eric,” he said, kneeling beside the sofa and feeling like a total idiot. He felt like he was at someone’s deathbed, instead of sitting with a friend who was having a bad crack trip. Kyle wondered if there was a such thing as a good crack trip. “You okay?” 

“Kyle?” 

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Your mom called me.” 

Eric didn’t say anything. Kyle glanced at Liane. She was standing there looking like she hadn’t slept in years. The harsh light from the lamp near the sofa highlighted her thin face, and Kyle noticed there were dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was greying too. She couldn’t have been past her thirties, but if Kyle had met her on the street he would’ve guessed at least fifty. 

“Would you like a snack, Kyle?” she asked. 

“A snack?” 

She shrugged. “If you’re going to be here awhile I’d be happy to grab you something from the fridge.” 

That was her go to, wasn’t it? It was why when Cartman was stressed, he ate to the point of making himself sick. He’d been taught that food was equivalent to comfort. Kyle felt the anger he hadn’t even known existed bubbling to the surface. 

He stood up. “What’s going on with you and Kenny?” he asked. It wasn’t the question he’d meant to ask, but it was what came out. 

“What do you mean, dear?” 

“Why would he tell you to text him if you need anything?” 

“Kyle…” Liane was wringing her hands and retreating closer to the wall as if she thought Kyle were going to hit her. “I’m sure you know that Eric and I haven’t had it easy lately.” 

Kyle narrowed his eyes, staring her down. “You mean you haven’t had it easy.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Well, Eric is only seventeen. If you’re having money troubles, that’s on you.” 

“Of course,” Liane said. She was tugging at a thread on her blue sweater that was coming undone. 

“Kenny has just been a very good friend to our family,” she said. 

Kyle wasn’t ready to let the subject go by any means, and he planned on making sure Kenny explained exactly what she meant by ‘good friend’ next time he saw him, but he decided to move onto something else, something more pressing. 

“Why hasn’t Eric been in school?” 

“Oh he hasn’t…he didn’t tell you?” 

“Didn’t tell me what?” Kyle asked through gritted teeth. 

“He’s dropped out of school.” She said it in a tiny voice, barely moving her lips as if that would stop Kyle from hearing or reacting. 

“He’s WHAT?” 

“He’s been working.” 

“Oh that makes it okay!” Kyle was yelling now, and he couldn’t seem to control it. 

“I assumed he would’ve told you,” Liane said. “It seemed like you two were getting pretty close.” 

Kyle threw his hands in the air, shaking. He wanted to break something. He should’ve fucking known that’s where Cartman was, working some dead-end job and throwing his life away. 

“Why would you let him do that?” Kyle asked. 

Liane looked like she was at a loss for words. Kyle stared her down. He wasn’t going to break eye contact until she gave him a fucking answer. 

“It’s what I did when I was seventeen,” she said at last, not meeting Kyle’s eyes. 

Eric groaned from the sofa and leaned over, vomiting into the trash can someone, probably Liane, had set down next to him. Kyle felt the anger fade, at least a little, as he watched Cartman slump back into the sofa, still shivering. 

He dropped his hands to his sides, exhausted. He wanted to say more, but he was tired and he didn’t know what else to say. Liane was obviously being honest. She was watching her son do exactly what she had done at his age. She had probably raised him exactly the way she had been raised. It didn’t make it okay, not even a little, but Kyle decided to drop it, at least for the time being. 

“I’m going to bed,” Liane said. “Eric sweetie, I’m leaving my door open so call if you need anything.” 

“Thanks mom,” Cartman muttered, hugging himself. 

After Liane left the room, Kyle just stood there. Cartman was shaking like crazy, even though his hair was matted with sweat. Kyle hated seeing him like this. 

He moved toward the stairs, planning to grab a blanket from Cartman’s room. 

“Kyle?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t leave me.” 

“I’m not,” Kyle said. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” 

Cartman opened his eyes and looked at Kyle and Kyle met his eyes, trying to assure him without words that he was not leaving for good.

He hurried up the stairs and into Cartman’s room. He paused, looking around. The place was a dump. Half empty bags of chips and crushed Double Dew cans littered the floor along with dirty clothes and old homework. Kyle stepped through the mess and grabbed a blanket from the bed. Something caught his eye though. 

A laptop was sitting on the bed among the blankets and dirty socks. 

Kyle knew he shouldn’t, but he found himself sitting down on the bed and opening the laptop. He remembered the other day, before their fight, Cartman had seemed like he was about to tell Kyle something important, and then he’d looked at his phone and something had changed. Maybe the answer to whatever secret Cartman was keeping was on the laptop? 

The screen was already open to a blue website that Kyle recognized as Tumblr. He clicked over to the side, where he found that Cartman’s blog was apparently called ‘the-coon.’ He couldn’t help but smile a little at this. Of course Cartman would use his old superhero title. 

He froze, reading the bio. ‘eric. 17. small town gay with big dick energy so respect my authorty.’ Gay? Eric Cartman was gay? Eric Cartman, of all people? 

Kyle obviously wasn’t upset or anything, but he was definitely surprised. Wasn’t this the same kid who had made fun of minorities constantly when they were kids? Who had been one of the worst bullies in school? Then again, he’d also had a habit of playing with dolls and dressing up as Britney spears, and he’d also always had an above average interest in Brad Pitt. 

Kyle shook his head, closing the laptop. He stored this information in his head for later, deciding it didn’t really matter right now. He turned his focus instead on finding a blanket. 

Something that Kyle couldn’t place, an odd feeling (butterflies?) stirred in his belly when he noticed his own childhood blanket on Cartman’s bed. It was the blanket he’d brought from home and wrapped around Cartman’s shoulders the night those cryptid hunters had chained Cartman up outside as bait for ‘jewpacabrah.’ He couldn’t believe Cartman had kept it after all these years. 

With the blanket tossed over his shoulder he headed downstairs where he found Cartman sitting up, hugging himself. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, reminded oddly of doing the same gesture when they were in fourth grade. That felt so long ago. 

This time, instead of leaving the blanket wrapped around Cartman and going home to his own bed, Kyle settled into the sofa next to him and allowed Cartman to rest his head on his shoulder. It was going to be along night, but Kyle had a feeling it would be a lot longer for both of them if they weren’t together.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing South Park and also my first attempt at "enemies to friends to lovers," so hopefully it turns out okay! Also, this is story has no beta so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr if you want @ nihilistic-creep


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